Stupid Fairies
by paperklip119
Summary: What happens when a boy who hardly knows what this "Hetalia thing" is gets stuck in the world of it? Discontinued.
1. Miniskirts

_**Notes:** T-this is m-my first fanfiction that I've published… I'm not really 100% sure on how this works but I am going to try! The first chapter is rather short and doesn't really get into the plot yet…_

_As well, I'm far from the best writer and an amateur really, so reviews would be very, very helpful! Please tell me what you like and totally hate!_

_Thank you for reading!_

* * *

It wasn't that I hated the idea of this "Hetalia" thing; It was just that, one, I wasn't really into the "wee-a-boo-Japan-desu-desu-yo" stuff, and, two, if I joined the fandom I'd be one of the only fan_boys_ in the entire thing. Now, like I said, I actually thought that the prospect of personified countries interacting through friendships and stuff was actually pretty smart and witty.

…But anime is evil. Anime with thousands of "fangirls" is eviler… especially when you don't really have any friends. I learned my lesson when I drew a cute picture of Miku Hatsune in class-not that I think she's the best Vocaloid; Gumi will always be my favourite- and one of them cool BMX racers saw it. I got picked on for weeks. Despite the fact that it was nearly three years ago, when I was in grade six, I still do not take any risks of that again. Pretty much the only thing I'll do these days is listen to Vocaloid in secret... And even that is pretty rare.

My best and only buddy, Ron, keeps trying to coax me back into anime, as he's quite the… "atiki"… "atoki"… whatever the Japanese term for "nerd" is. Ron's a nice guy, though; if he gets the slightest hint that I'm starting to get annoyed with his ranting, he stops until a little while later, when I'm in better spirits, to dive into another one of his east-Asian frenzies.

But the day he talked about this "Hetalia" caught my interest. It sounded pretty good. Lo and behold, it actually _was_ good. But just before I got into the fandom (I was starting with episodes from the subbed version of the anime, due to Ron's advice), I realized the ratio of fangirls to fanboys. It was pretty much ten-thousand to one. Fanboys were the smaller number. I decided right there and then that I'd rather spent my time improving my car-drawing skills. Ron was pretty disappointed, and tried to show me that was actually a fair amount of guys in the fandom, but his research kind of backfired.

Hence what led me into staring at the computer screen looking at a picture of the big-browed, tea-drinking blonde who goes by "England". I happened to take note in Ron's failed research that there were a lot of girls who swooned over the Brit. I couldn't see why. He was a lunatic that, in my opinion, is far from the best looking character in the series. Perhaps it was a character trait I had missed… Either that or a lot of girls need to get their eyes checked. Honestly. I just don't get how you could call the guy a "hot beast". I even tried to imagine myself as a fangirl and still convince myself that big brows were hot, especially not on that guy. I half-thought of asking what people saw in him on a fan-page or something, but my inner voice told me that, if I valued my life, I shouldn't do that. …And, like I said, I wasn't getting into the fandom until more guys did.

Suddenly, my door slammed open, causing me to jump ten feet out of my seat, and click on a picture of England, enlarging it.

"Erin, mom says you gotta go outside for at least an hour today." It was my younger brother, Stanley. He's two and a half years younger than me, going into grade seven in two months. Of the irony of it all, he was and probably still will be the most popular kids in his class, if not school… Despite the fact that he openly claims that Rin Kagamine is his favourite music artist. Of course Eminem comes in a very close second, but still… Perhaps it's because he's the typical cool sporty type with a strange sense of humor. I'm not really the athletic type, preferring to stay inside and go on the internet. But Mom's been getting on my case lately. She's been forcing me outside almost every day to "stop being a hermit". I kind of take that as "so you won't be fat with heart disease when your older", seeing as she used to be a health and physical education teacher.

I'm far from fat, more of a ninety-pound weakling really, but Mom doesn't like that either. Though when she tells me to go outside, I go outside. I tried to skip it without telling her once and… well; now I know not to disobey my mother. A frightening lecture followed by a week without computer got it through to my head.

"What the heck is that?" Stan had come up behind me as I turned around to close all my things. I almost choked when I saw what was on the screen. Was that England… dancing… shirtless… in a _miniskirt_? Something told me that I didn't want to know. I closed the internet, got up, and stumbled out of my room.

"I'm just gonna delete that from my memory…" Stan shook his head a little.

"Yeah… me too…"


	2. Hallucinations

_**Notes:** Chapter two of my fanfiction! Thank you to all who reviewed! It made me really happy! We just start getting into my plot now..._

_Oh, and... Maybe I misunderstood the comments... but... while I'm not really an otaku, I am an England fan... so..._

_Anyway... again, reviews, even ones about what you hate are appreciated!_

* * *

__It isn't that hard to kill an hour where I live. I reside a little past the outskirts of a small town pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so my house is pretty much surrounded by forest. I've lived here for seven years and there's still a lot to explore on the land behind my backyard. So basically, all I have to do is walk for an hour. It's actually really fun to be out there when the sun is shining and it's warm out. As long as I'm not doing any grueling exercise, I could spend hours out there. My mom's curfew is to be back before it's pitch black out, so I don't really have to worry at this time of year when the sky begins to darken around ten.

Come to think of it, I would probably be much fitter and an outdoors-y person still if it weren't for the fact that the internet was introduced into my life. As much as I love nature, it just can't compete with that beautiful piece of machinery. Hence why I turned from the bouncing kid who could run for an hour straight to the hermit who can barely go faster than a jog. I don't know what my gym teacher mom was thinking when she decided that I could have a computer in my room, but I'm not complaining or confronting her anytime soon.

So, anyway, there I was, slowly walking along a little creek I had never seen before. It puzzled me, seeing as it hadn't been there before and the past week had been sunny and warm all twenty-four hours of all seven days. Oh well… It was summer vacation; I wasn't supposed to think logically. I wasn't actually thinking about anything except the fact of how warm it was, even though it was far, far past noon.

But then the creek abruptly stopped and pooled a bit right in front of a little ledge. My thoughts switched. Since when had that ledge been there? I mean, sure there were ledges and hills here, there, and everywhere. If there wasn't, seeing that I didn't live in the prairies, that would be weird. But I had walked this far from my house daily, and, not once did I recall a drop-off this steep this close to my house. Typically, you got into the real fun terrain to explore after walking my speed for at least forty-five minutes. I checked my watch. I hadn't even been walking for half the time. Had some sort of mini landslide occurred the night before? …But then, wouldn't it have had to rain or something for that to happen?

…Oh right, I wasn't supposed to thi-

What the hack was that _thing _ down there? I peered at it. It looked like some sort of giant fungus…

Curiosity began luring me in like a fish to food, and I began to climb down. I could have easily jumped, seeing as I was less than two meters higher than the lower ground, but my feet are sensitive in a way, and landing hurts like heck. Unfortunately, it probably would have been better too, seeing as the first jut of "rock" I rested my foot on was actually a clump of dirt that crumbled when I put my weight on it. Before I knew it, I had hit the hard, dirt ground with a thud.

Ouch. That was going to leave a mark. For better or worse, it seemed that my upper back had taken most of the impact of my hideous landing. At least it wasn't my head…

I sat up and looked at the fungus. It stared back at me.

…Wait…_what_?

I blinked, but the derpy face still remained. I would have brushed it off with the summer "no-thinking" logic, but common sense told me that fungi shouldn't have faces. Unless, of course that wasn't a fungus… But then, what in the name of my great aunt Mary was it?

"Hey you!" The thing interrupted my thoughts. I stared dumbly, and after a brief moment, it began to call me every bad word and name in the book.

Then it sprouted wings and flew away.

My mind went blank until it left my peripheral vision. Hoo boy… There had to be a reason behind that… Maybe, while I hadn't recalled it ever happening, or any pain, I actually had hit my head… hard. That was the best reason I could come up with.

_I should go home…_

I stood up and peered at the top of the ledge. It wasn't that much taller than me, but I felt that I couldn't climb it. There wasn't much to grab on to until the top, and my high jump skills were worse than my running skills. How I even passed phys. ed. was something that I'd never know. Then, while the pain was quickly fading, the bruise on my back didn't exactly make lifting my arm the most pleasant task in the world. So I decided to walk a bit until the height was more to my level. Though… looking in both directions and seeing the ledge continuing on, I seriously wondered if it had been there before…

I had moved for no more than two minutes when I felt a slight tugging on my shorts. I ignored it. It was probably my imagination, anyway… Then it stopped, and the nest thing I knew, there was a tiny winged girl no more than three inches away from my nose. I swatted at it. Great. More mind madness. The fairy disappeared for a second, but then returned, slender arms folded across her chest and looking real pissed off. A sneer was etched into her soft features.

"What do you want?" I didn't know why exactly I was now talking to something that wasn't there, but I was. The fairy let out an exasperated sigh that I couldn't hear, and lifted a tiny arm, pointing to the left. As if on cue, a soft wind began to blow in that exact direction. I felt my face tense up a bit in confusion and slight bewilderment.

"Do you want me to go that way?" The fairy perked up and nodded vigorously. I sighed, turning to my left and beginning to walk. I just wanted to go home by now. If the hallucinations were telling me the way, I'd trust them.

* * *

For whatever reason, as I followed the tiny girl, I felt like my surroundings had changed greatly. Kind of like I was in a forest in another country or something… It began to creep me out, so I ignored it. The last thing I needed was more confusion to be brought into this. Besides, all the plants and stuff were the same, so I had to be decently close to home, right?

After a good couple of minutes of walking, the fairy disappeared on me. I wasn't surprised, seeing as it was a figment of my imagination, after all. …But that figment of my imagination had led me home! I could see a building in the distance. My pace quickened. Finally! All this madness was over!

…

…Or had it just begun?

As I got closer, I began to realize that the building was a _huge_. Obviously, it wasn't my house. This place was pretty much a mansion!

…B-but as far as I knew, there were not really any buildings, much less mansions until you were near the city. That was almost two hours away… By car… And that's when you're making good time. Heck, I could only remember seeing one or two summer cabins between my house and the city, but those were pretty darn far away too! I was so lost… Both mentally and physically…

If I turned back, I'd probably get even more lost, so I dashed down on to the driveway and out to the nearest road.

…That didn't help one bit. As odd as it was, nothing looked familiar. Well, excluding the trees and stuff, but that basically just proved that I didn't walk to South America. This day was so strange… And where the heck was I? Also, was the sun really that low in the sky? Rhetorical question. Yes, it was.

I decided to turn to the residents of the mansion for help. Surely they would help a child in need, right?

…Even if they were having a family reunion… I took note of all the vehicles in the long driveway. I walked up towards the door. I was shaking. Why was I shaking? Stupid question. While I wasn't necessarily afraid of crowds, totally busting in on a family reunion wasn't exactly on my list of things I could easily brave. Whatever; I needed help, and who knew where the next house was? Besides, if anything, I was pretty certain they'd let me use their phone.

I walked up the steps to the door, puffed up my chest, and lifted my hand to knock.

_Alright, here I go…_

"_EVERYONE SHUT UUUUUUPPPP!_"

I yelped, lowering my hand, and sprinted –probably my version of "sprinted", not yours, seeing my fitness level- down the long driveway, and back on to the road. Never mind. I didn't need the help. I could do this on my own.

I was shaking. That sudden bellow from inside had scared me out of my wits! I mean, it was loud from where I was standing… That guy had superpowers. Well, I was going to stay away from _there_, that was for sure!

Instincts were strongly telling me to go left. I had a feeling they were right, but I had walked up and down and all around, so I couldn't be sure. Besides, I had been wrong to follow my instincts last time, so I ignored them and headed in the complete opposite direction. And I walked… and I walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and walked.

Okay… Maybe four of those could be removed, seeing my fitness level, but either way the sun set a good deal. The sky to the east was starting to turn a navy blue, but I was still decently far from my mom's curfew.

By that time, I was dead from exhaustion. I don't think I had exercised that much in well over two years! I flopped into a ditch by the side of the road. Not one car, truck, or minivan had passed me and I hadn't found my house either… Come to think of it, I had suspected I was going the wrong way, and, in fact, my instincts _were_ right a good while ago. So why had I kept walking? I didn't know. I didn't know anything anymore.

I sighed, closing my eyes. A soft breeze began to blow around me. The air still hung with warmth. Maybe I'd just sleep here… I didn't like the thought of my parents freaking out over my absence, but hey, if they freaked out, they'd look for me. It was better to find me here tonight than lost forever, right?

…Or shot for trespassing…

That house -or rather the occupant- now fell into my list of biggest fears. I hoped for my dear short life that I'd never have to meet that bellowing man… Or if it was a woman… That terrified me even more.

I shuddered. I shuddered again. I eventually realized that I was shivering, not shuddering. The air around me had turned icy cold. But how? It was warm just a minute ago… I drowsily opened my eyes. Oh yippee. Miss Dumb Bum Fairy Girl was back. She was pissed again. Why? Did female fairies have strong hormones too? Apparently so. Whatever I had done had pissed her off.

Like my first encounter, she lifted and arm and pointed to the left. I ignored her and lay back down again. She was the one that got me in this mess in the first place. (I had stopped caring about whether or not the existence of fairies and all that stuff was real. I was just saying that, for now, they were.) The wind started blowing harder and icier. I pulled myself into a ball. Yeesh. If this was the works of fairy girl, than I had underestimated these creatures greatly. I tried my best to stay strong, but caved in just before I became a human popsicle.

As soon as I sat up, the wind died down, but the cold lay on me like a frozen sheet. Fairy girl was in the same position. Stupid fairy. I wanted to snap her neck!

…But I didn't; probably because, for some reason, something inside me kept saying that she'd actually help me this time… And that I'd die of hypothermia if I didn't listen to her and didn't succeed in killing her. I gave her a hard stare as I stood up and began walking in her direction. She flew beside me, and every time I looked at the puny thing, she had an over-confident smirk on her face.

* * *

"Do you _want_ me to die?"

We stood in front of the driveway to the mansion again. The sky had pretty much reached my mom's curfew and now the only light was that coming from the bulbs far down by the door of the huge building and the –apparently luminescent- girl fluttering nearby me.

I wasn't going in there. Especially not when I could so easily see a local newspaper entitled "Young Trespasser Shot and Killed". But every time I took one step further from the property, the air froze again. So, I could take my chances and very possibly die quickly, or I could surely die slowly. Yay.

I was so tired. I had used the very last of my energy walking back. I know I had said that I died, but I guess that I died twice. I just wanted to be home…

Fairy girl landed on my shoulder and said something into my ear that I could barely make out.

"_Just go in… Look, I-I'm sorry that I got you lost… T-these people will help you… Just trust me, please…"_

I looked at her oddly.

"….Seriously?"

She flew off my shoulder and nodded furiously. I believed her. The residents would help me, and then bellowing man would be all like "INTRUDER!" and shoot me… in his own house…

…Yeah right. I was tired, confused, and had lost all track of reality. I sighed. Well, she had said that she was sorry… Maybe fairy girl was really trying to help… I proceeded down the driveway. Fairy girl disappeared on me again.

In the dim light, I took note of the fact that a great many of the vehicles were missing. Huh. I guessed that the family reunion was over.

…And every single one of the guests that left hadn't passed me… WHY? Of all of the few routes and roads that could be taken, why was mine skipped? Ah well, it wasn't really of use for me to try and solve the problem now.

_She lied. She's not sorry._

…

Where'd _that_ thought come from?

I could've ignored it. That probably would have been the better thing to do, but I didn't. The way it just popped into my head, kind of made it feel like fate. Then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there was a fifty-fifty chance of everything. I could either be accepted with open arms… or I wouldn't even be able to enter. Shoot. Every silver cloud had a dark lining tonight.

But before I could think another thought, the door –still thankfully a few meters away from me- flew open, releasing a little more light into the yard. Thankfully, I was still in the shadows.

…I spoke too soon. Not one second after, the silhouette in the doorway flicked a switch somewhere and various lamps along the driveway lit up. Ack! Panicked, confused, not thinking clearly, and not really sure if I wanted to know whether or not I would've been welcomed here, I dove behind the nearest car. I caught my second wind in less than a millisecond. Dang it! Why couldn't whoever that was have waited five minutes so I could have decided whether or not to run?

_Please don't see me… Just get your business done and go back inside…_

Even if whoever was nice, I didn't really like the thought of being found crouching behind a car. That made me look suspicious.

…_Unless your business is to investigate the kid you were pretty sure you saw out here… Then just go inside…_

The footsteps were getting closer and closer. My telepathy wasn't working.

…Then they stopped. I heard a loud thud mixed in with some rattling. Did someone drop a toolbox?

"Stupid Brit… Honestly, you'd think he'd at least know how to fix a car…" Well, the voice didn't sound relatively close to bellowing man's… He didn't sound too vicious… I stopped worrying a bit, but remained in place, even so. I heard something unlatch followed by a bit of loud clanking and rusting as he continued on.

"Then again, even if he did know how to, he'd be '_too much of a gentleman_' to soil his cuffs in such dirty work!" Cruel people didn't talk to themselves, did they…? "I guess this shows what a _HERO_ I am!"

Wait… "hero"… He just called himself a "hero"… That was ridiculous, but heroes helped those in need, right? Rhetorical question.

Hallelujah! Help had come! I jumped up from my crouching position. Much to my surprise, he was only on the other side of the car, by the hood. I guess much to his surprise, there was a kid hiding behind the car he was about to get to work on. I figured that his surprise was much bigger than mine… because the nest thing I knew, a panicked f-word was ringing in my ears and a wrench was flying towards my head.


	3. Kirkland

_**Notes:** We finally just start to get into the main plot in chapter three! _

_...Ah, sorry for the dely, if anyone (though I'm not sure exactly how many) was waiting... I just figured out how to see just how many people have actually read this. Before I found out, I actually thought that pretty much no one was interested in this fanfic and gave up hope... But now I know! :) Thank you so, so much to everyone reading! It makes my heart explode with joy! Haha! Anyway, on with the story! _

* * *

"How the bloody heck do you just hit someone with a wrench?"

"…I dunno… reflexes…? He was just… not there, and then there… It caught me off guard, bro…"

I finally regained consciousness when the thickly accented voice began screaming.

Mentally, I mean. Physically, I had been awake the whole time, but half my brain shut down when that hunk of metal collided with my face. Though I was somehow able to remember what happened.

After I got pelted (which, thankfully, I wasn't hit by the biggest wrench invented, but most definitely not the smallest) my nose started bleeding… a lot. Now, like I said, half of my brain shut down, so I just dumbly stood there, very, very slowly raising an arm to cover my nose. The guy across from me chuckled nervously, pushing up his glasses which had slipped when he whipped that wrench at me…

Or, as I took note as I blankly stood there, he had chucked the wrench at the roof of the car, but it had somehow bounced off with enough force to hit my face really hard. I had a feeling the owner of the car wasn't going to be too happy when they saw the deep dent in the roof. Unless, of course, it was glasses man's car. He didn't seem to mind too much.

Finally, after about a minute of some real awkward silence, glasses man led me inside, apologizing once. I stumbled along, unable to respond. I think the part of my brain that carries out functions was temporarily damaged. He led me up some stairs, down a long hallway with various doors, and into a bathroom near the end of the hall. He opened a drawer and handed me a box of tissues, in which I gratefully accepted. My arm was starting to look like someone had stabbed it.

After about thirty seconds, he told me that he'd "be right back, going to tell Artie something". And thus, a few seconds later, a very British voice cried out, snapping me out of my daze and returning my senses back to me. The two talked in a quieter tone for a quick minute, before "Artie" said something sternly to glasses man and slammed the door to his room in his face.

Mr. Glasses (in case you haven't realized it yet, no one in my family wears glasses, nor does Ron, so it's not odd for me to take notice of people wearing spectacles) walked back to me, and leaned against the door frame, not at all looking angry… He was actually smirking a little. I hoped that was a good sign.

"How ya faring?" Okay, he seemed nice. I trusted him.

"My nose hurts like heck, but, somehow, I don't think anything's brok-"

"Oh yeah!" He sounded like he just remembered something. "My name's Alfred Jones!" He stopped leaning against the door frame and his grin grew. "I'm the world's HERO!" He gave me a thumbs up. I couldn't help but smile too.

"Erin… Erin Renster… Uh… I'm the world's hermit… I guess…" Alfred laughed a bit at that, for some reason. Some more silence followed before Alfred spoke up again. His tone was a bit more serious, but still happy and playful.

"So what the freakin' heck were you doing hiding behind the car at this time of night?"

Oh shoot. I had hoped greatly that this wouldn't be brought up… Then again, why wouldn't it. I mean, when there's some creeper kid behind your car long after dusk… I figured what I did was pretty suspicious… But my story was so ridiculous… But I might have caused more problems if I refused to answer… And I had to answer decently quick if I didn't want to look more suspicious than I already did…

"I-I was walking… But then I tried to climb down a ledge, and I slipped…" I was going to leave the talking fungus and the fairy out of this. "I-I guess it impacted my sense of direction… Because the next thing I knew, I was lost…" In which I probably wouldn't have been if it wasn't for the dang fairy. "Then I found this place… But there was a family reunion going on…"

"Family reunion?" Alfred snorted.

Oh shoot. Did I really just say that out loud? Yes. Yes I did. Dang it… I've always had a problem with just spouting assumptions. I really needed to stop that habit. Now I felt stupid. Thankfully, Alfred seemed to sense the fact that I'm not the brightest person out there.

"Nooo worries!" He laughed. "I guess there were a lot of cars… Is that why you thought that? Anyway, that was a meeting… at my place." He motioned around.

Oh! That must've meant that bellowing man didn't live here! Thank goodness!

…Or, at least he didn't own the place. Did Alfred live here alone? Cleaning the place must suck…

"Do you live here alone…? Or are you married… Or…"

"First one's about as close as you can get…" He shrugged. "I dunno… I've got other houses around the country…" Wait… This mansion wasn't his only house…? I had been taken in by a millionaire! "Anyway, I've never been married and probably never will be!" Huh. Interesting. I would have thought that he would be the type to attract girls in a heartbeat. Maybe he just didn't want a love life. Who knew? It was none of my business, so I dropped the thought of asking.

"Oh, and I'll have you know that I ain't related to anyone who came!" Nice English, there buddy. He stretched, and I tossed what I hoped was my last tissue that I'd need. My nose was still stinging greatly and it was hard to breathe through, but at least the blood was done with.

"Think you'll be fine for the night?" I nodded. "In that case…" He turned around and began to walk away. "I'm going to hit the hay. You can sleep in the closest room to your right… If ya here anything in the mornin' it's probably just some of the guests leaving. Ignore it." So, he wasn't going to ask how my story ended? Guess not… Of course, I wasn't complaining!

"Oh by the way…" Alfred called down from far down the hallway. "I'm not sure if you're like Francypants, but you look like you got plowed over by a freaking tank!"

…Did I really look _that _bad? I didn't know. There were no mirrors in here.

Oh wait, yes there was. It was on the back of the door. I was full length too; so I could admire my gorgeous appearance all at once. Please take note of the extreme amount of sarcasm in that last part if you haven't already. I looked worse than being run over by a tank. I looked like the living dead.

Blood was all down the arm I had first used as a tissue, and all over my –conveniently white- shirt. My face was a whole different story. The bridge of my nose was real swollen and a disgusting shade of purple. It was gross. Then there as the fact of my clothes… Dirt streaked every piece of fabric and caked my shoes- Ah, dang it! I had been clomping around this millionaire's house (Seriously, why didn't I know this guy lived here before? _When_ did he start living here?) in dirty shoes… I hoped that he didn't mind, but even so, I took them off and tried to scrape a decent amount of dirt off them into the trash bin. I then proceeded to wash all the grime off my being… or most of it, anyway. Anything that wasn't clothed got a good scrubbing.

I was about to wash my shirt when my second wind suddenly left me and was replaced with the biggest urge to curl up and go to sleep on the floor. I decided to finish up tomorrow.

I picked up my shoes and slid into my given room. (And, yes, I slid. My feet didn't leave the floor once –even though "my" room was all carpeted.) I flopped on to the bed, and, as impossible as I once thought it was I am almost certain that I was out the exact moment my head came in contact with the pillow.

* * *

I drowsily opened my eyes. Sunlight seeped through the pale blue curtains a few inches from the end of my bed, illuminating the whole room. I remembered where I was immediately. My brain can adapt in that way for some reason. I also have a tendency to remember other people's houses as well as my own, as creepy as that sounds. I don't know how or why, but I can.

Three sharp knocks repelled through my door. Huh. What convenient timing.

_Must be Alfred…_

"Come…" My voice croaked with tiredness. I sounded possessed. I cleared my throat and tried again. I sat up as the door opened.

"It's about time you were up." Whoops. Wrong assumption (again). It was Artie the Brit. I could tell by his voice. Why was he here? I would've thought that Alfred of anyone would be the first to see me and… Oh my…

My thoughts were interrupted by the fact that Mr. Artie looked nothing like I had imagined him to. For whatever reason –probably the accent- I had imagined him to have the stereotypical "pinkies up", fancy-dressed, molecule type of appearance. I couldn't have been more wrong.

…Actually, yes I could have been, but, whatever. The point was that he didn't look like what I had expected him to.

He was dressed pretty casual, in a jade green shirt (with some sort of black design across the chest) and jeans. I figured that he wasn't a natural blonde, seeing as those giant caterpillar brows of his hardly matched. Either that or his genetic code was seriously screwed up. His hair was pretty darn messy too…

Since when did I start sounding like my nit-pick granny?

"I guess introductions would be a good place to start. I'm Arthur Kirkland." He wasn't half as enthusiastic or joyful as Alfred. I was even pretty sure I saw a hint of a scowl when I looked up at him. I hoped for my dear little life that he wasn't the reason that I hid behind the car. Of course, he didn't sound like the bellowing man, but still… I shook his outstretched hand anyway, standing up and introducing myself.

"I'll be the one getting you home, seeing as that twit just up and left with the rest of them, leaving me a note and the keys to his bloody spare car." He didn't sound happy at all. Then again, would I if I was supposed to take some creeper kid that my acquaintance hit with a wrench home? Well, even if I was, I wouldn't _show_ it… Unless, you know, they were stealing things, or stuff like that…

Arthur folded his arms across his chest and sighed, muttering something about being thankful at that, even. He eyed me for a quick second before leaving the room. I wondered if I should follow him, but he was back before I could make any moves. He tossed me a crimson shirt telling me (though it sounded more like commanding) to change and meet him at the front door. I did so, throwing my other shirt in a nearby trash bin. I highly doubted that I'd ever wear it again with that many stains… Actually I might have… If it weren't for the fact that a majority of the stains were blood and, as un-manly as this sounds (though I hardly consider myself a manly man anymore), that was gross.

Arthur was waiting for me, suitcase in hand, when I dashed down the stairs, carrying my shoes. (Like I said, my memory's amazing when it comes to other people's houses.)

As I laced up by the door, I began to take note of all the filth. Perhaps it was the fact that I didn't expect a millionaire to have such an unkempt place, or the fact that it was a lot easier to see once my brain was functioning properly again... Probably a mixture of both. Now, don't get me wrong; I'm far from the cleanliest person in the world, but… there had to be at least fifty wrappers in that corner over there… and that was just part of it…

Arthur read my thoughts and snorted. "Disgusting; I know."

When I was done tying my pretty bows, I bounded out the door, Arthur following briskly behind. I noticed that there were only two cars parked now, one of them being the dented one. Judging by the glares he was giving it, I presumed it belonged to Kirkland.

We got in the car, and, with my weak instruction, headed off in the opposite direction that I had walked in. No questions were asked as we rolled along, and I was thankful for that, but the silence was really awkward. Like, way worse than the awkward silence the night before. There wasn't even any background music… Due to the fact that Arthur seemed to hate pop. (Some sort of techno song blared as soon as the engine started up and he quickly shut it off, looking pissed.)

I was pretty thankful when we reached my house. (I didn't know how long it took and didn't bother even trying to find out. I knew that it would just confuse me even more. If we arrived with a fairly quick time, I'd be wondering how in the world I got lost… and why I never knew that mansion was there… Yeah… I didn't want to think about it. Ever.) I mean, I knew that I would have to answer a lot of questions, but at least the adventure was over… and I was done hanging with this stiff Englishman.

I quickly took note of the fact that neither of my family's two vehicles were parked in the driveway. Oh dear… I hoped that they hadn't gone to the police in town yet. That would make them good parents, but in this case…

The car ceased to a stop and I leaped out, racing for the door. I turned the knob. It was locked. I punched in the code –as we have one of those nifty keyless/code locks- and flung open the door.

"I'm-" The rest of the sentence caught in my throat at the same time my body froze.

_That's not right…_

I did a double take. When nothing changed, I did a triple take.

…_Did I break into somebody else's house?_

The house number was the same. The lock code was the same. Heck, this house, both interior and exterior were exactly the same… excluding the fact that _the house was completely empty_! What was this? What was going on?

"If this is some sort of joke, I'm leaving right now." Arthur had appeared behind me. If anything, the joke was on me… I couldn't think of any reason for the current situation. I could feel my brain shutting down again…

"C-can I borrow your phone?" I stared meekly up at big brows. He glared back at me, but sighed and gave me his phone from the pocket of his jeans. It was the newest model of the iPhone. I normally would have ogled over it, but I was kind of panicked and going a little crazy. I tapped in my mom's cell number and lifted the device to my ear. The voice on the other end was not what I was expecting.

"We're sorry," the dull, monotonous voice said, "But the number you have dialed does not exist in this area…" I tried again, but got the same result. It was pretty much repeat with dad's number and (since I was desperate) the house number. I slowly handed the phone back to Arthur, trying my best to ignore his weird glances at me. I didn't know what to say. My family had just disappeared of the face of the Earth… I was losing my mind, big time… Arthur cleared his throat.

"Shall I be taking my leave now?" He sounded sarcastic in a way, like he was talking with a problem child.

"N-no…" If I was going mental I at least wanted to know that I wasn't alone and that, in fact, my family was right there and this was, in fact, my house -filled with furniture, as always. I would also really like to know about the mansion… "I-I don't know what to think… My family… I can't get ahold of them… A-and Alfred… His place was never there until yesterday…"

I looked up again, awaiting Kirkland's reply. He didn't say anything, but cast me another glance as if to say "what is wrong with you?" then looked away at something else. Not really knowing what else to say or do, I followed his line of vision… to find my eyes resting on tiny winged girl.

I didn't know why I was so pissed off at her, but I was. My inner voice (though it most definitely had a tendency to be incorrect) was telling me she most definitely had something to do with this situation. I swiftly grabbed her before she could disappear again. When I looked at Arthur again, I was pretty sure I saw a ghost of a smirk on his lips. What was so funny?

"A-and fairy girl here… She just keeps coming and going as she pleases... L-Like a-a…" The men in the white coats were probably coming to take me away, may as well mention the fairies and be proven that they didn't exist and that I was holding nothing.

"…And you killed it." Arthur's slight smirk had reversed into a slight frown of disdain. Wait… what had he just said? I looked down at the puny limp body in my grasp.

"Just how hard did you grab her? Pixies are really frail, you know…"

"Y-you can see her?" Was I hearing right?

"I can't deny that fact…"

S-so I wasn't entirely going mental…?

…Wait, no. Mr. Brit was probably just playing along before turning me in to a facility…

"Come on." Arthur had turned around and was walking toward the car. I quickly closed and locked the door before trailing behind.

"Huh?" I hoped that he wasn't turning me in before I could see my family again…

"I'll stay another night or two until we can solve this… predicament." Was he going to turn me in or… maybe, help me? "But," his voice turned cold, "If this is some sort of… _prank_, you'd better fess up now. Or, so help me, I'll make you regret your poor decision." I shivered. Thank goodness I wasn't joking!

…Or was that something to be happy about…

I paced to the car, quickly setting down the fairy-pixie thing on the ground sometime in the process. I didn't feel all too guilty for her. She was the one that got me into this mess, sorry or not.

* * *

_**More notes: **I know it's kind of a sucky way to get into the plot but... it was the best I could think of. Anyway, t____hank you very, very much for reading this chapter and this story!_Like I always say; pretty, pretty please review! Positive reviews, negative reviews, tips on how I can improve my writing, future ideas, etc. would be super appreciated! :D 


	4. In Toronto

_**Notes:** Just a head's up: this chapter is kind of short and suckish because it's just a filler. I don't know why it took me so long to write, but the next chapter will be waaay better! (Er... I hope...) Especially because Monsieur Bonnefoy is going to make his debut! *smirk smirk* Anyway, thank you so, so, so much for reading! _

* * *

"Please do try to keep up."

"Why can't you just slow down?" That got me a hard glare from Arthur. I picked up my pace. That guy's glares scare me a bit.

…But not overly.

"Look, I'm sorry, 'kay? It's just that I'm really un-"

"If you're _so sorry_, do something about it!" I always hated it when people retorted back with reasonable arguments. I grumbled, but didn't say anything. This guy _was_ the one who was helping me while letting me stay at his place until we could figure out how and why I got into this mess, and how to fix it.

Anyway, even though we weren't downtown, and it was getting late, a good some people buzzed down the sidewalks and vehicles frequently flew down the streets. I didn't like it, though. I've never been the biggest fan of the city, much more preferring being able to bike down the center of the road for hours and not worrying about getting hit once.

…And then, if I hadn't known better, I'd say I was in London, England, judging by the repeating accent I kept hearing and the giant clock tower I saw from a distance in the taxi. But would this guy honestly fly me all the way across the Atlantic? I kind of doubted it… Even if he was a millionaire who didn't want to stay at Alfred's place. I still didn't feel like asking yet, though. I had a feeling that my brain might explode if I did on that chaotic day.

I wanted to say that we were in New York, but I knew that couldn't be true because the flight had been really long… Much longer than it would have taken to get to New York. Besides, there was the accent…

I decided that we were in Toronto. I mean, stereotypes say that Canadians talk funny, and I know Toronto's a pretty big place.

* * *

I was still a little surprised when we returned to Alfred's place again instead of a police station or asylum. I think my mind had gotten a little carried away…

I hadn't noticed before, but Alfred's mansion had one of the locks like mine, in which, for some reason, Arthur seemed to know. I was a little curious as to why, but didn't ask. I figured that they were friends. I mean, why else would one be fixing the other's car and letting him know the code to his house?

I had walked in nervously. I don't know why, but, maybe it was because he could see fairies, or maybe it was because I just wanted a _reason_ for all this, but I ended up telling the stiff Brit my whole story before any conversation was started. The mysterious creek… the bellowing man… I told him everything.

…And in the end, my response was a skeptical huff before changing the subject.

I (or rather, we) tried phoning other relatives in which numbers I could actually remember. I got a dial tone every time. I also tried phoning my mom and dad's cells ten bazillion times more, but got the same result as the first. Then, as if to add the sickening sweet icing of irony to this situation, Ron was visiting family in Montana and I had not the slightest clue of how to contact him. I almost broke down.

Almost. Thank goodness for that "flying mint bunny" or whatever it was to freak me out and prevent me from doing so.

I was just hanging up on my last call when it flew in front of my face, nearly causing me a heart attack. Then, as it suspended itself in the air, it began talking to me, being all like, "What's your name? I haven't seen you with Arthur before! Are you a young friend of his?" Arthur cut in before I could say anything. Though, I wasn't really sure of what to say in the first place, so it didn't really matter.

Of course, I got a little weirded out when the conversation took a very casual turn after awhile, but for some reason the fact that I saw Kirkland actually _smile_ weirded me out even more. I don't know why, but it did.

…And then he seemed pretty happy when I joined the conversation, too.

Anyway, seeing that I was literally unable to get ahold of anyone, he later offered to let me stay at his place if I wished, mentioning that it was a rather long trip. Obviously, I didn't care. I gratefully accepted. Anything was better than being left in the care of the police with a story like mine… And I think the both of us had a silent agreement on the fact that this would be the most screwed up case ever, especially if the fairies got involved in the story. They wouldn't believe me.

But then that brought up the question of why we didn't just stay at Alfred's place, but the Brit cleared that up pretty quickly when he muttered something about 'not wanting to stay at this bloody idiot's house any longer'. Of course that brought up a bazillion more questions about my 'Alfred and Arthur are friends' theory, but I decided to ask about it later.

We drove to the city –the city closest to my place-, where much to my surprise, we pulled into an airport and Arthur hurried me in. I was even more surprised when I was permitted on without a ticket… Or maybe Arthur bought one really last minute and I didn't see it, seeing as he was probably a millionaire too and all. Either way, I was still surprised.

I didn't know where we were going, but I hadn't asked, so all the blame didn't fall onto the Brit. However, blame did fall onto him for not letting have the window seat. Perhaps it was wrong of me to ask while we were in the air, but he should've known from the start that anyone under twenty will always want the window seat. Always.

…And so, we flew for what felt like forever –and the fact that Mr. Stiff Brit closed up again didn't make the trip any more exciting- apparently went through a time change, landed, and so on and so forth.

* * *

By now, we were on Arthur's doorstep, the very last natural lights of day fading into the dark and being replaced with electricity. Even in the dim light, I could tell that Arthur's house was far less impressive than the mansion, especially in size. But, if I recalled correctly, one had to be a millionaire just to live in a house this big in New York, so maybe it was the same in Toronto. That was, if we were even in Toronto.

Mr. Brit fumbled with the keys a bit before opening the door wide. As soon as the lights turned on, I gawked a bit. I mean, the place was so _clean_! Saying it sparkled and shone would be an understatement. It made those show homes in communities look bad. My nit-pick granny would be impressed. Honestly; as soon as I slipped off my shoes I went to the main room and when I looked down, I could see myself in the hardwood floor.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"Huh…? Oh, yeah… Sure. I would really like that… Yes." Arthur looked at me funny for the umpteenth time that day.

"A simple 'yes' would've done, just so you know." I ignored that.

Pretty much all I had eaten that day was some scones on the plane that Arthur gave me. Though I wouldn't have known they were scones if I hadn't been told. They didn't even look like a pastry. But I didn't really mind too much. I used to eat worms when I was younger and I think my sense of taste has been impaired since.

He ended up making a simple dinner of a salad which somehow looked and tasted more like green mashed potatoes rather than lettuce and dressing. But, like the scones, it was food and it was edible, so I ate it. Arthur apologized for the simplicity of it, but claimed that it was far too late to make a proper dinner. I honestly didn't care. Then Mr. Brit cleared his throat and continued on after a brief moment.

"I hate to just leave you like the American dolt," he started. Honestly; was I utterly wrong about their relationship? Did they really hate each other? But then why…? Maybe they were business partners…

"But I have another meeting that I must attend to tomorrow." Oh. Perhaps that was another reason why we had left and didn't stay close to my place.

"I think that I'll be gone before you're up…" Now that he vaguely mentioned, I was starting to feel real tired. Shoot. I figured my second wind had come and gone. "But I'll be back by mid afternoon."

For whatever reason, my second wind has a tendency to just leave me at the randomest times, and when that happens, I'm mentally dead to the world. (My mom actually noticed this, because my sleep patterns are pretty odd –I have a tendency to be really tired by eight-thirty at night, but I catch my second wind soon enough and then I'm fine for a couple of hours until it ends. I can also never sleep in past ten in the morning, no matter how late I go to bed. Apparently, according to the doctor, there's nothing we can really do about it… But it's nothing really to worry about.)

"The rules are pretty standard. Do not screw around with my stuff, and if I find out about anything…" By now I had tuned out. Stupid second wind… Leaving me now and forcing me to think of nothing but sleep.

"…And you're not even listening to any of this, are you?" I nodded. Wait... What had he said? I tried to snap into focus as best I could. Kirkland sighed, getting up.

"If you head upstairs and turn to your right, your room's right there." With that, he took his dishes and moved to the kitchen.

"Thanks," I murmured. Dang it. I kind of felt bad now, but sleep was conquering everything. I'd apologize later. I scooted out of my chair and made my way to the nearby staircase.

* * *

_**More notes:** I've been looking at the stories and accounts of the people who have reviewed this. I am so unworthy of your guys's praise... Thank you!_


	5. Ghosts and a Frenchman

I woke up on the floor.

I honestly don't know how that happened, especially without me noticing, but it did. I didn't bother thinking about it. That seemed to be the best thing to do as of late; don't think about how it happened, just focus on something else. Kind of like what I had thought just before I got into this mess…

The blinds were drawn, so my room was dark, but the digital clock on the nearby dresser told me that it was almost noon.

…Wow.

Okay, I know that it's normal for kids my age to sleep in that late, but, it's already been mentioned about my sleeping patterns.

And then, of course, I was still recovering from that whole incident that nearly caused me brain damage. Just gently touching the bridge of my nose hurt like heck. Then again, I figured I was lucky that, if anything, I was probably getting away with a scar. Wrenches aren't meant to be thrown at people…

Anyway, I untangled my feet from some sheets that went down with me and headed to the door. Go figure, when I opened it, a random piece of paper fluttered to the ground. I eyed it oddly. Why there was a piece of paper in the door was beyond me. Unless…

Upon closer inspection, I realized that it was a note. It was a note for me, starting off saying that Arthur would be back by noon, how he thought that I had enough wits about me to not screw things up at his place and blah, blah, blah. I skipped the second half. I crumpled up the note and shoved it in my pocket to throw away.

Then I immediately headed down to the kitchen. Seeing as I had kind of quit my dinner half way through, I hadn't had much to eat the day before, and, therefore, I was supremely hungry. I explored the cupboards and drawers looking for breakfast food. In the end the only thing I could find was bran cereal, and I went into despair.

Now, as has been mentioned before, my sense of taste is terrible. Someone could lather a chicken in paint, and, while I may notice something is a little… off, I wouldn't be able to tell what and, frankly, probably wouldn't care… Until I start suffering from cramps and realize that I'd been poisoned.

But that's mainly for lunch and dinner. Breakfast, on the other hand, is a bit more special. It fuels the day. A sucky breakfast isn't nice, especially for me. You see, I've got this thing where my body seems to have realized that breakfast is made for sugary goodness, not healthy stuff that's bland (as well as preferably food that is actually meant for breakfast). Therefore, I must have it. However, if there should be no sugar cereal around, I'll settle for something that's colorful, because, typically, colorful is equal to sugar. But it needs to be prepared already, or at least simple to make. That's a rule that applies to everything that I eat. I'm lazy and I don't care. Haters gonna hate (In this case, my mom). So bran cereal naturally didn't fit the bill.

I could've had what I believe was leftover pasta, or Chinese take-out, or whatever the heck was in the fridge, but I really wanted cereal… or ice cream, but I didn't find any. The past few days had sucked. I felt deserving of at least that. Cereal, I mean.

Hence how I ended up in the basement; looking to see if there was a storage room of some sorts down there. He had a pantry upstairs, but still…

I kind of felt like a snoop, but really, there was nothing wrong with looking around _a little_, right? Okay… maybe there was. Some slight guilt tugged at my inner being, so I decided that I'd only open two doors. That shouldn't be too much of a problem, right? Yeah… I mean, Arthur was leaving me alone at his house. If anything, this was his fault for not being there. Yup, if he got mad, it could only be at himself!

I opened the first door, hoping for shelves of food. Whether or not there was, I couldn't tell. The room was pitch black. I slid my hand down the wall, only stepping in from the door a few inches, feeling for a switch. I was unsuccessful. I tried again, this time feeling a greater area. Before I could get very far, a voice called out.

"Hullo there!" I jumped and let out a little yelp, causing the voice to begin to laugh before various torches around… what appeared to be some sort of goth library… I quickly tried to take it in, before whipping around in the direction of the voice. Then I nearly screamed.

A-a ghost… A freaking _ghost_ was floating toward me!

…Okay, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad, if he had, you know, looked decently like a well human instead of someone who had just died in a chainsaw accident… The way the lower half of his right arm just dangled… suspended by strings of muscle… and that giant slice across his neck… I shuddered, closing my eyes. I was definitely not one for gruesome sights… not in real life…

When I opened my eyes he was right in front of me. I let out a whimper and stumbled back. The ghost flew up to me again and put an icy hand on my shoulder. My knees buckled, and I knew that any movement other than my trembling would cause me to collapse. I looked up at the bearded one as he gave me a friendly smile.

Oh gosh… the way the gash in his lips split… I closed my eyes again, turning my head down. A loud laugh rang out, but one most definitely not like Alfred's.

"Aw, c'mon kid! Just give me a chance! I'm not going to kill you!" Of course not… I cautiously opened one eye, looking up at him, just to wince and close it again. This guy scared the living heck out of me.

"Seriously kid, stop being this way! Look, I'm a good guy! I'm not going to curse you into eternity! Look, if you need me to swear on it then 'cross my heart and hope to die…' if you will…"

His hand slipped off my shoulder as he burst into a bout of snickering. "Get the pun?"

Why, yes, I did get it. But if he thought I was just going to immediately lose all the terror I was in just by telling jokes, he was wrong. However, he was able to ease the tension a tiny, tiny bit. I opened my eyes and tried to look at him without my gaze wavering too much. Ghosty smiled. I trembled a little more, but forced myself to keep looking.

"That's the spirit, m'lad!" I nodded slightly, a frown still on my face.

"Heeeeeeeeyyyyy! Why're you being such a bore today?" A younger looking translucent man –one in much better condition- floated up behind the other one, grabbing his head, for whatever reason. The first ghost sighed.

"Look, the kid's practically pissing himself just from seeing me. Do you think I'm going to be cruel to him?"

"No… but that's because you've grown soft."

"Is there anything wrong with being 'soft'?"

"In your case, yes."

"Shut up. I don't care."

"You're totally abusing one of the most classical privileges of you're very existence!"

"Traumatizing children is a privilege?" Ghost two grinned hugely.

"Indeed!"

There was the sickening sound of flesh being moved around as ghost two practically ripped the first ghost's head off. I couldn't take this anymore. My body now apparently working again, I bolted out the door and clambered up the stairs, out of the basement.

I collapsed on to the floor when I got to the kitchen, my heart rate shooting through the roof (though I think most of that might have been from me running up the stairs). I glanced behind to make sure that they weren't following me. When I was fairly certain that I was safe, I slithered to the table and heaved myself into a chair, where I promptly placed my face into my uncontrollably shaking hands, trying to calm down. It took awhile, but finally I was able to decently get ahold of myself. Then I was reminded by my stomach why I had gone down there in the first place.

I lifted my head, catching a glimpse of the salad stuff that I didn't finish the night before. I reached across the table and pulled it to myself. It wasn't the sugary goodness that I deserved, but it would do for breakfast. I really didn't feel like getting up… and definitely not opening any doors. I didn't want any more headless ghosts trying to "befriend" me. Still slightly shaking, I dug in.

* * *

I peered through the slight bit of window that I had uncovered from the still drawn curtains. Well, the guy-chick outside certainly looked alive and well… that was good. I was still pretty disturbed by the whole incident earlier on, and when the doorbell just rang out like that in the silent house, I had freaked out. It didn't help that it had happened right when I was dozing off on the couch, either.

I cringed as another wave of nausea hit me. About a half hour after I had finished my meal, I had started feeling gross. Hence why I was trying to sleep on the couch in the first place after I had just slept until noon. The thought of it being because of the food roughly crossed my mind, but I was pretty sure that wasn't it. The food was fine before, surely it must've been fine now. I must've conveniently caught some sort of random flu virus.

I looked up again and… Oh frick.

How long had the guy on the doorstep caught me stalking him?

I let the curtain slip and scrambled back on to the couch. I hoped dearly that he had just thought that I was I weird reflection off of the glass.

My hopes were crushed as I heard four loud knocks followed by an accented voice. It wasn't British, though. I could tell that much.

"Oh, Angleterre…" he sort of half-sung his sentence, "I know you're in there!"

…

…Who the heck was Angleterre? This guy was clearly mistaken and knocking on the wrong door. I wondered whether or not to stay silent. If I stayed silent, maybe he'd go away. I really didn't feel like talking to people that I didn't know in a city that I had never been to before. But then, I didn't really want him coming back looking for the wrong guy… Especially if Kirkland still wasn't back yet.

Well, poor him and poor me. If he didn't leave me alone I decided that I'd ignore him until Arthur came back. It would be his own fault for being an idiot.

…But what if he was a hundred percent certain that I was here? Even if he was looking for the wrong guy, he knew that I was here. What if he waited? That would be creepy and stalker-ish after awhile, but still… Maybe I'd just open the door and tell him to look elsewhere and then close it again before he could say anything… That could work… There wasn't much talking and it got the point out. It was rude, but it could work.

…And then I'd feel like and utter idiot. I sighed. If he wasn't a stalker, he was probably gone now, anyway. There was no point in planning if he was gone. I got up and staggered to the door. I didn't feel like peeping through the window again, in case I was caught once more. If the creep was gone… then good. If he wasn't… then I'd figure it out then.

I unlocked the door and cracked it open and tiny bit. He was gone. I sighed with relief, shutting it again. I shuffled back to the couch. He had better not come back… I curled up, the position helping me feel a bit better somehow.

…But then the phone rang. I groaned and sat up. The world was out to get me today, wasn't it?

I reached over and grabbed it, looking at the caller ID. I wondered if it was Arthur. That stupid idiot hadn't bothered to give me his num-

Oh wait… maybe he had… on that "useless" note that I had thrown away earlier… Shoot.

I shakily answered, just in case. Needless to say, my eardrums were nearly blown off as soon as I pressed the talk button.

"ENGLAND YOU FRICKIN' SON OF A B - - - -! WHERE'S MY CAR AND WHY DO I KEEP GETTING PHONE CALLS FROM PEOPLE SAYING THAT I OWE-" I hung up and slammed the phone back into its stand.

Nope. That wasn't Kirkland.

I eased myself back into position. I decided that it'd be best just to leave everything to Arthur. I'd just leave everything for when he got back. Yep. That sounded good.

The phone only rang once more, and then everything left me alone. In the silence and my pain, I drifted off into la la land.

* * *

When I woke up the curtains had been opened and the sun was shining right in my face. So, when I opened my eyes, _it burned like heck_! I squeezed my eyes shut again and went to shield my face with my hands, but apparently I had shifted to the edge of the couch in my slumber, and the movement caused me to fall off, smacking my ankle on the nearby coffee table in the process. That paired with the impact of the –definitely not soft and cushiony floor, caused me much pain, which I obviously did not like.

I hissed and sat up, but that placed me right in the sunbeam again, so my eyes burned _twice_. I cursed and ducked back under the safety of the table's shadow.

"Are you alright?" I heard (an actually bemused) Arthur say.

"JUST CLOSE THE FRAKING CURTAINS!"

I raised my head again, this time without being scorched. I murmured a quick thanks and heaved myself back up onto the couch. I was able to sit up easier now. The flu virus seemed to be gone and I felt much better.

Arthur walked up to the table and lifted a teacup in which I had missed seeing and thankfully didn't hit when I fell. He stirred it with a little spoon. How British…

"So… I'm presuming someone visited, seeing as how the door was so wisely unlocked when I got back…" He took out the spoon and took a sip, looking at me expectantly.

Whoops. I must've forgotten to after I had checked to see if the creeper was gone.

"Uh… About that… There was this creepy-guy chick at your door, and he caught me stalking him…" I saw the hand holding the teacup twitch.

"You didn't let him in, did you?"

"O-oh no… I didn't. I was actually going to tell him to leave, but by the time I got around to doing that, he was gone… Oh, but, when he saw me, he was all like," I imitated his sing-song voice, "'Angleterre, I know you're in there' so I think he was looking for the wrong guy."

Arthur sighed, setting down the teacup. "That 'Angleterre' would be me…"

"Is that a nickname?"

"You could say that…"

"What a stupid nickname." I didn't get it at all. The only thing it had in common with the name "Arthur" was that it had an A and R sound. Besides, weren't nicknames supposed to be shorter or more pet-like? Honestly…

"That much is true." Okay, so Arthur didn't like the nickname either. That was good. "…But why exactly were you 'stalking' him in the first place…?"

"T-that was because…"

"Bonjour Angleterre!"

Well, what a coink-a-dink.

The Brit whipped around and the Frenchman just strolled in like he lived there. I found that to be kind of odd, seeing as he had knocked before. Then again, I was at least thankful that this wasn't how he had made his first appearance. I wouldn't have known what to do at all.

"Get out of my house…" The way Arthur spoke told me that if Frenchie made one wrong move he was screwed. Fearing the same went for me, I sat still and remained silent. Meanwhile, Frenchie just continued on in, as if he heard nothing. He sat down on the other end of the couch, crossing his legs. The way Arthur glared at him made me want to weep.

"You had better have a good reason just to walking in like that…"

Frenchie chuckled. "Don't worry, I do."

He cupped his hands, and then opened them to reveal… nothing. I looked at him questioningly while Arthur continued to glare.

"You see, this morning I woke up and I heard this little 'tap tap tap' on my window. So I looked out and I saw this little fairy." He nodded down to his still empty hands. Was I supposed to be seeing something? "So I let her in and she said "Merci, Monsieur! I am locked out of Iggy's house and can't get back in!" Iggy? Seriously, what was with these names?

"She told me that you had _far_ too much to drink last night, and that's why she left." Say what? I honestly doubted that Arthur had been drinking last night… If he even did drink. I mean, I was there, and he had a meeting today… Oh. It all came together. Everything this guy said was to screw with Arthur for fun.

"She said that you…"

Before he could finish, Arthur back-handed him… really, really, really, really hard. That's not an exaggeration. He hit him hard enough to flip him over the armrest and on to the floor. I gaped in silent horror.

"You can just shut your mouth, you bloody frog!"

Not two seconds after he finished, Frenchie had gotten up and decked him in the face.

"That _hurt_, mon amie!"

Arthur was back up before I could even register that he was down.

"That was the _intention_!"

As he said that, the Brit performed some sort of ninja trick in which he kicked Frenchie's face. However, Frenchie had somehow gotten ahold of Arthur's collar within that time span, and the two went down together, just to be up again in the time span of a blink.

After awhile, I began to wonder if they even remembered that there was a young man watching them… And whether or not I should've phoned the police.

I honestly thought that someone was going to be dead after this. Whenever someone flew across the room, I freaked out.

…Maybe I'd just go sob in my room… No. I still had my ghost paranoia. Maybe I go sob just outside of my room… I reached over and wrapped my fingers around the nearby phone. If I was going to cry upstairs, I wanted to be able to call 911 if I heard some sort of haunting scream of someone losing their life.

Unfortunately, or perhaps not, right as I lifted the phone out of the stand, a much bigger person crushed me into the armrest, nearly knocking the wind out of me. He moved quickly enough, though, and the pain subsided pretty fast. Even so, this was not my week was it?

"S-sorry…" I heard Arthur stutter, and the next thing I knew, Francy-pants was by my side.

"Look at what you did, Angleterre! You hurt him!" He cried, though something in his voice told me he didn't actually care about me all too much, and he was just using this as an excuse to screw with Arthur a bit more. "Are you alright, mon lapin?" I felt his hand run through my hair. It was a really creepy feeling.

"I-I'm… fine…" I meant that in terms of physical health. My mental health had been screwed up for awhile now. The fact that the two, other than being a little roughed up looked pretty fine and in decent condition didn't really help my thoughts. The Frenchman continued to stroke my hair as he turned back to Arthur.

"By the way, what is this kid doing here?" I stiffened, though I wasn't one-hundred percent sure as to why.

"T-that's because… I-it's none of your business!"

"Ohonhonhon… It isn't now, hm?" That laugh… It sent chills down my spine… Bad chills.

"It's not!"

"I don't really see why. Unless…" A creepy smirk began to form… He was smirking creepily while stoking my hair… I shifted uncomfortably. This was getting weird.

"Look, all it is… it's… it's a favor for a friend!" I kind of wondered why Arthur was making excuses, but then I figured my story was still pretty messed up.

"What an interesting favor…"

"Shut up!"

"Oh, and, since when did you have friends?"

"At least I've more than you!"

"Lies…"

Arthur stood up, and I thought that the death match was beginning again. But he just smacked the other's hand away. I silently thanked him for that.

"Stop being perverted!"

"There's nothing wrong with showing affection to a child…"

"With you, there is!" Arthur glared daggers at him, but Frenchie was unfazed. "If you're only here to taunt me, then leave, or so help me, I'll make you regret you ever dragged your sorry carcass in here!"

Frenchie continued to smirk. "Such cruel threats…" Then he turned to me, the smirk turning into more of a friendly smile. (Except that I was still kind of afraid of friendly smiles…) He pulled a folded envelope out of the pocket of his pants and handed it to me. "I honestly don't know how this got to my place, but I don't feel like asking. I'd give it to Angleterre personally, but…" he nodded towards the Brit, "I'd like to take my leave without any more bloodshed."

So… basically, the point of this visit was to drop off a letter? I glanced over to Arthur, who looked even more pissed off than before.

"Land sakes!" he cried, "You could've just re-sent it!"

Then in a lower tone he added, "That way I wouldn't have had to see you're disgusting face…"

Wow… that was mean. Frenchie didn't seem to care, though.

"Oui, but…" he gave a long, slow wink, "I felt like… as you put it… 'taunting' you today…" With that, he dashed out of the door –in a strangely feminine way… kind of like me, I realized, ashamedly- leaving a seething Brit behind. I set down the envelope down by the teacup which miraculously hadn't moved a millimeter since it had been set down, and scooted out of the room while Arthur glared at the door.

I was a little curious as to how exactly glaring at the door helped matters, but I didn't ask. I didn't want to become the Frenchman's replacement.

"Bloody frog can die…" I heard Arthur grumble as I crept up the staircase. I glanced back a little uneasily and continued on my way. When I got to my room, I slowly opened the door, holding my breath. I was still really paranoid, but I kind of figured I'd have to brave it sooner or later. Besides, the tension downstairs was so thick that you _couldn't_ cut it with a knife…And there wasn't a computer in this house. Or, at least, one that I had found and had permission to use.

If this guy didn't have a computer he was lost… No, seeing as he was a millionaire, if he didn't have a computer, he was a lunatic, that somehow wasn't a lunatic because he was a millionaire.

My room proved to be ghost-free so far, and I stepped in. I quickly skidded over to the bed and sat down. No ghosts came to greet me. I let out my breath. I was pretty sure that I was safe… for today, at least.

"Hey there!"

I jumped, but calmed down considerably when I realized that it was just Minty.

"S-sorry…" he…er, she… it muttered when it saw that it had scared me.

"Don't worry about it…" I looked up at it as it somehow stayed in the air without flapping its wings. "Uh, Minty…" I felt a frown tug at my lips, "This isn't the norm is it?" Minty sighed and landed on my lap. I would've pet it, but the eerie feeling of having my own hair stroked was still fresh in my mind.

"Yep. You'd better get used to it."

"…Seriously?" Minty nodded.

"Come to think of it, they were beating each other up a few hours before you came." Frenchie was at the meeting too?

"Aren't they going to kill each other someday, fighting like that?" Even though they were fine after that fiasco, I still feared. Also… that was how they fought unarmed… I feared what would happen if one of them got ahold of a knife…

"I highly doubt it, if they're not at war, they won't." I hoped that World War 3 didn't roll around until I was dead. Of course, unless I died young, if I was dead they'd be really old… Whatever.

"Well, I'm going to go see Arthur now."

"Oh… okay." I watched the green mint bunny flutter through the door. Then I sighed, lying down on the bed, just to jolt back up again. A new thought had hit me. I wracked my brain for evidence against it, but there was no such prevail. Interesting…

During that entire visit…

Despite every word that was said…

I still had not the slightest clue as to what "Frenchie's" name was!

That was so queer…

* * *

_**Notes:** First and most importantly; I'd just like to point out that the sickness was, in fact, due to the salad. Much to the dismay of my OC here, the dressing used on it was far past it's expire date. That fact did not effect England, though it did to Erin, but not until the next day, in which the food molded over night. Obviously, Erin didn't notice! XD_

_Anyway... I thank everyone who's read, favourited, and watched this story! I'm really sorry this chapter took so long to get out... And then my chapters are always so short... I'm going to try to update every week from now on and really, really work hard on improving my writing! I appreciate all of the praise comments, but I know there is so, so much I need to improve..._

_So, pretty please review! Both criticism and praise mean all the world to me! _

_...But, you know, seeing as how I want to improve and all, I would really like some tips... I've read your works, lovely reviewers! You guys are freaking amazing! So, if you don't mind... Thanks!_

_(Oh, and... uh... call me a goody-two-shoes if you care, but language will probably always be censored out the way it is in this chapter... So there probably won't be too much of it, because I think all that censoring would get annoying to read, and I don't have the guts to cuss... ^^;)_


	6. Death the Ghost

Even though I had slept most of the day away, I was still somehow able to fall asleep again once night rolled around. (Oh yeah, and I pretty much spent the rest of the night in my room, unless you count the fifteen minutes it took to microwave and eat the leftover Chinese takeout. I honestly didn't know what happened to Kirkland or where he was, but I didn't bother wondering. Minty visited me later in the evening, and this time it brought some more of Kirkland's friends, like Uni and Hook. Introductions and small talk took up the rest of the evening.)

My nerves had eased up a bit, as I felt that I was safe from anymore ghosts and such.

…But now, as I stared death in the face, I realized that I was wrong.

I had woken up in the middle of the night needing to use the toilet, and when I got back that thing had been waiting for me in my darkened room.

Now I stared at it, my breath coming out in ragged, horrified, gasps. This one wasn't as bad as the other guys… he definitely didn't look like them, that was for sure. It was just, instead of looking like a victim of death, he looked like death itself. That was ten times worse than the zombie man.

It made a move towards me, and, with a yelp, I dashed back into the bathroom. I slammed the door and protectively leaned against it… incase the thing tried to come in. I frantically glanced around the small room. Earlier I had thought that the goth library was empty, and I wasn't taking my chances again.

But alas, in the end I ended up not finding a ghost, but another tiny winged girl. Hooray.

"You guys…" I hissed. The pixie smirked. Honestly, these creatures deserved to live about as much as mosquitoes! "Look, I know how fragile you are, and trust me, I'm not afraid… to…" My sentence faded as the weirdest sensation entered my being. It actually kind of felt like something was _in my chest_, scarily enough. However, when I nervously looked down, I saw nothing. I lifted my gaze back up to the pixie.

"S-stop screwing with me!"

She let out a silent chuckle and pointed to herself, shaking her head. I burst out into a tired rage.

"Well obviously it is you! Other than that, it's death ghost, here, but he's kind of locked out right now, stupid!" I whacked the door for emphasis.

She fluttered over to me and landed on my shoulder, so I could hear her. "You're an idiot." She said boldly. I huffed.

"That cannot be denied." There was a brief pause. I presumed the reason behind that was because she wanted me to argue back. Well, too bad for her. I couldn't fight back if it was the truth, right? She snickered and then continued. "Well then I guess you didn't know that most ghosts can fly through walls."

"Aug!" That was, indeed something that I knew. Heck, _every_ kid knew that! How had I forgotten? I mentally face-palmed at my stupidity.

…And then I dumbly realized that she was inferring that Death could be in this very room right now. I crazily whipped my head around again, but didn't see anything. I didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The feeling in my chest had changed, and now it felt like something was freaking protruding through my body. … I tried my best to ignore it. However, that wasn't very easy. Pixie girl smiled and continued.

"Also… some of them can… how do I put it… you know, fly through human beings too, per say. Not that it does any harm… but…" I blinked and then she was gone. I took in what she had just said, and that just made everything a whole lot scarier. I slowly lifted my hand up to my chest…

…And screamed when my fingers interlocked with another set. I pushed off the door, the feeling fading, and whipped around. Death emerged through behind.

"Just leave me alone!" I cried. But, like all antagonists out there, he didn't leave me alone, nor did he stop approaching me. I kept backing up until I reached the bathtub, in which I so smartly fell into. Obviously, Death didn't stop. Both my eyes and my frown grew, the closer he got.

Finally he reached me. In which from that point he just basically taunted me by standing there and letting me have a mental spazz attack. It didn't matter that he wasn't doing anything; the sight of him was traumatizing enough. So, I closed my eyes. That not only proved to not help, but was really stupid. For reasons I do not know, it grabbed my feet. As queer as it was, it scared the living heck out of me, and I, as unmanly as it was, shrieked like a scared child.

I thrashed about like a madman before somersaulting out of the bathtub and, flying through the ghost, bolted out the door to Arthur's room. I dashed down the hall and slammed the door loudly behind me when I arrived. I took three big, cautious steps back, my eyes not leaving the door once. Death didn't come after me. Unfortunately, that made me more paranoid than anything, seeing as what happened less than five minutes ago.

I jumped a bit when a flicker of light reached the very corners of my peripheral vision. Of course, right then I remembered that I was in Arthur's room and just how hard I slammed the door. That meant that the light was because of him, not death. That also meant that he was awake… In which connected with the fact that he was probably pissed off. Both of my parents were like that; not wanting to be woken up by annoying ploys, and stuff such as slamming the door.

"I presume the scream I heard two seconds ago has a connection to this…?" I slowly turned around. Yep. He looked annoyed.

"Kill it," I cried pleadingly, pointing to the door, "Kill it with fire!"

I hoped that he'd at least see me out tonight. I mean, I was in a random Brit's house due to the fact that my family had just randomly disappeared off the face of the earth, and now I was seeing dead people along with stalker heart-and-feet-gropers. This was one of the worst moments of my life! I think he sort of saw my side of the story because he sighed and shuffled to the door. I whimpered when I saw that Death was still waiting there, but Kirkland didn't even flinch. Instead he folded his arms as I cowered.

"Screw off," he growled, "You're making me lose sleep."

…And then Death just disappeared. It was like Arthur had supreme rule over him or something. He turned to me. "There," he said, his voice about as enthusiastic as it had been earlier-not really, "I saved you." I blinked before skirting to the door. Then I peered around anxiously. Was getting rid of that beast really as easy as that?

No… there had to be a catch somewhere. He was probably waiting for me back at my room, if not elsewhere.

"Arthur," I squeaked.

"What?"

"C-can I sleep in your room tonight… please?" There. Not only had I flat out admitted that I was a scared little being, but I had _used my manners_. These days that sort of thing is foreign. I was being a good boy. He couldn't turn me down.

"No." Jerk.

"B-but what if it comes back?"

"Did you not just see what I just did?"

"Well… yes… I mean… no… er, yes… no… I saw what you did. But what if it doesn't listen?"

He sighed. "Then just ignore it."

"I can't do that!" That thing could fricking plunge it's hand through my body! How could I sleep knowing much less feeling that?

"That's not my problem." How cold-hearted was this guy? Yes, I was and am a stupid, wimpy idiot who deserves to be treated that way _sometimes_, but definitely not now!

"Please… I'll sleep on the floor if you want!" I sounded despite, but I didn't care. "Just… I don't want to be alone with… that… that beast!" And if not Death, who knew what was out there? Arthur gave me a hard stare in the darkened room, which made him look a little scary, before sighing yet again.

"Fine," he murmured, "But you'll have to man up to this soon. I'm not letting you sleep with me every night."

With the way he worded it, rude, stupid, and utterly unnecessary impulse thoughts hit me like a bolt of lightning. It was the perfect sentence. Before I could even think of his reaction, the words were out of my mouth. I immediately took it back, but it was too late.

"That's what she said."

It was more of a whisper, but Kirkland still heard it.

"_Oh, for the love of… Out. Now._"

"Noooooooo! Nonono! I'm sorryyyy!" I knew that I was being an idiot, but now I _did_ deserve to be kicked out. What else could I do? Dang it… I really did need to learn to stop tripping over my fine line of respect. Unfortunately, my begging and attempted innocence seemed to have no effect on Arthur.

_So stubborn…_ I swallowed hard and slowly crept out the door. It was swiftly closed behind me, nearly clipping my heels. I glumly looked back at it. I was almost certain that Death was in my room, so I wasn't going back there. Then again, it came after me… what if he did again? I couldn't be certain of anything anymore. Not in this mad house.

I curled up by Arthur's door. (I felt safer the closer I was to him, for some reason… That was probably because he can just tell that creeper to go away with two words.) I focused my gaze on the bathroom, in which was still being illuminated by the light that I never turned off.

I wanted to move away from the door, but in a bigger sense, I didn't. I wanted to sleep, but in a bigger sense, I didn't. I brushed some strands of hair off my forehead. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

I didn't know how much time had passed, but it hadn't gotten any lighter out. I could barely keep my eyes open now, and I went from curled up vertically to horizontal.

Oh man… I was so tired… But I couldn't sleep… I couldn't sleep… well, for the exact reason that became reality. I felt chilly hands grasping my feet. (Seriously, what was with this guy?) I glanced up to see seemingly misty, bony fingers, raised from the floor, wrapped around them, pulling at me, as if to drag me to the underworld. The thing wasn't accomplishing anything, I didn't move an inch. But it was terrifying all the same. Why I didn't scream again, I didn't really know.

"Go away…" I didn't really expect it to listen, and it didn't. I sprung up and headed back into Arthur's room, closing the door more quietly this time. The hands reappeared in front of me. I backed up, but they'd disappear and reappear in front of me again. Why couldn't I be left in peace? Why me? Why did they hate me?

I bumped into Arthur's bed and pulled myself onto it. I felt the Brit stir behind me, but he didn't wake up. I nervously glanced at him and then back at the empty looking (empty LOOKING) room. I didn't want to get out of the bed. (…What she said…) I'd had enough of getting scared out of my wits.

…But who knew how mad Arthur would be if he found me here again? In his bed, nonetheless… I'd gotten off on the wrong foot with him already, and I didn't want to continue down the wrong path. Not with the guy who was actually trying to help me with this screwed up situation of getting me home… with a family to go to. I let out a drawling exhale. This really was going to be a long night.

* * *

"…And today's weather will be sunny and hot again…"

Of course this guy would set an alarm during the summer, even if he didn't have to work. Or, I presumed he didn't have to. At least… not today… Wait. Had I fallen asleep? Rhetorical question. Oh no… Oh no, no, no…

My eyes flashed open. Arg! When had our faces gotten so close? Not that I really minded of course. It wasn't like we were the opposite sex or anything, but if Arthur opened his eyes right now…

Oh heck. I shouldn't have said that. I cursed the situation.

Arthur's eyes slowly opened and he let out a startled noise as I purposely rolled off the bed. I quickly, but quietly, army-crawled across the floor. I was a stealthy ninja now. I heard Arthur say something, but ignored him. If I was stealthy and silent enough he'd second-guess himself and doubt that this ever happened. When I was in my stealthy ninja mode I could get away with anything.

I reached the door and slipped out.

* * *

_**Notes:** I say I'm going to start updating faster and what do I do? Procrastinate! You can also blame my inability to write good sentences without taking a half-hour... Then I update with this half-efforted, short piece of crud... *sigh* I am so sorry... _

_Anyway, I thank everyone who's still reading, favouriting, and reviewing this! I also feel so bad... From now on, I promise I WILL update every seven days starting tomorrow as long as everyone keeps loving this! So please review so I know! :D_

_...And on another note, I'm not really sure if anyone cares, but, seeing at how new I am to this, chances are that I'm not going to be very descriptive when it comes to background or characters. But you should know most of them, so... Just use your imagination for the rest I guess... _


	7. Feliciano

Four and a half days had passed since my arrival in, go figure, what was really London, England. I found _that _fact out after I consulted Kirkland about where I was after hearing ten radio stations claim that they were "London's Number One".

Yep, I was staying with a millionaire. Well, I still didn't know that for certain but it was a pretty darn educated guess. Of course, I still didn't have a clue as to what was going down with me and my family, and that worried me a bit, but I was trusting that Kirkland was helping me. Actually, I was kind of convinced that he was, because he continued to let me stay with him even though I seemed to annoy the living daylights out of him. It was almost never intentional, but almost everything I did was wrong in his eyes. Then again, I had a mouth with a death wish that ran on its own will. So, I guess I sort of deserved the scowls… But that was who I was. What was I supposed to do? _Change_? Like I could do that. Even so, I _did_ try to play it decently safe… sort of.

I had already learned the many things that I was banned from. Not that I was guilty of all of them. Things like wandering the city on my own was something that I merely mentioned, not did.

I had so far pretty much spent most, if not all of my stay on the computer in Arthur's room, which he thankfully let me use as long as I didn't infest it with viruses. Being the computer addict that I am, I could spent years living in the fantasy-reality of the internet, so being on there 24/7 was really entertaining.

I didn't know what the heck Kirkland was doing while I sat there as a lifeless blob, but it looked like paperwork and reading creepy books from the goth library-which I learned that I was banned from too… for now.

Oh, and, Arthur was kind enough to lend me some of his clothes. They were a bit big and, honestly, I didn't really care about how often I changed what I was wearing, but it was nice to know that he was at least thinking about taking care of my basic needs.

…Except for breakfast… In which for the first three days I ate that gross bran cereal. Lo and behold, I found out on the fourth morning that there had been some sort of Cadbury chocolaty-goodness spread _in the one cupboard I forgot to open_! I couldn't really blame anything but myself and fate, but still… While I ate that healthy junk, it had been sitting there the whole time… Unopened, because Kirkland (obviously) didn't want to eat it. (I wondered why he even owned the stuff, then, but it had worked positively in my case, so I didn't ask.) To make up for my loss, I finished off the whole thing in one sitting that very morning.

But now the morning was gone and the afternoon was beginning to end as well. Kirkland was up working in his room (on the computer this time, so I had been kicked off, unfortunately) while I made paper cranes out of newspaper in the main room. Surprising as it was, and despite how much I loved the internet, I was never one for watching TV. I personally found it to be rather boring. So there I was, nicely folding down the wing of what was now my seventh crane.

Then in came the madman.

He kicked open the front door, nearly sending it flying off its hinges. I jumped, and the beautiful wing crumpled in my grasp.

"ENGLAND, YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS!" I slowly and nervously turned my glance up to the crazy freak, and… well lookie here… It was Alfred. He didn't look very happy.

He turned to glare at me, but when he saw that I wasn't Arthur, his gaze softened significantly.

"…It's you."

"Indeed." Alfred gave me a weird, crooked smile.

"What the friggin' heck are you doing here?"

"It's a long story…"

"ALFRED!" A pen soared through the air and knocked Alfred on the head before falling to the floor. I turned around to see Kirkland a few feet away. He stormed up to the other. "I don't know why you think you can just amble on into my house like that, but I'll just have you know that you can't!"

"Says the man who takes my car and leaves it in an airport parking lot without letting me know!" Alfred shoved some papers in Arthur's face. "They charge you to keep your vehicle there, you know! By the time I figured out what all those phone calls were for, I owed ten grand in rent!" I was pretty sure that a saw a hint of a smile forming on the Brit's face, but it was gone so fast that I couldn't be one hundred percent certain.

"I am fully aware of that fact," Kirkland brushed the papers away, now annoyed, "And that's not even close to ten grand."

"Who gives a care? I still owed money and those ladies wouldn't stop calling me!"

"You can only blame yourself for this predicament. This wouldn't have happened if you just fixed the bloody car!"

"You shouldn't have broken it then!"

"What kind of argument is that? Do you think I _wanted_ the stupid thing to break down?"

"W-well you could've fixed it yourself, instead of knitting like a sissy girl!"

"I wasn't knitting! And who's to say embroidery's for sissies?"

Seeing as what happened when Frenchie came over, I was thankful for the lack of violence, but I really didn't feel like sticking around for this… Especially with the computer now free for m use. I dashed up to Arthur's room and leaped into the seat. A virus message greeted me. Lovely. It said that it was going to do a virus removal and that, unless I canceled it within the next minute, all work was going to be lost. I frowned at it, hoping that it wasn't there from something I did. If it was, Kirkland would probably hate me and take away my computer privileges for the rest of my stay. That would be really depressing. I'd be forced to make paper cranes…

_Joe!_ Joe was the fourth paper crane I made that day and it was perfection. Or, in my eyes it was. The folds were all neat and crisp, with not one corner overlapping the other. I actually didn't care the most about it (don't ask me why I named it), but I knew that Ron would like it. He always gave me stuff, often for no reason at all, so I had kind of felt indebted to him as of late. He didn't really care whether or not he got something in return, but I decided this piece of perfection would be good to end my self-conscious debt. Besides, it seemed kind of like a shame to throw it away.

I headed downstairs. The two A's were still bickering by the door (not trying to crush each other into the floor, though they looked like they were about to), so Joe was safe. Now to speak with Kirkland.

I had a gut feeling that it wasn't going to be very easy. You know… just by the way I could literally tell that he was trying to refrain from pummeling the other to death. Maybe this wasn't a good time… But then he'd lose all his work, which would piss him off later, and then I'd be kicked off again. I didn't want that.

"Hey Arthur…" He didn't hear me. I tried again, stepping closer. "Hey… Kirkland."

He probably still wouldn't have noticed me if Alfred had not grabbed his head and turned him to face me. "The kid wants to speak."

I looked up at the beaming Alfred, then back at Arthur who was swatting his hands away. I half wondered if that gesture was really necessary, grabbing his head and all… He could've just said something… and I was about to speak louder anyway… Unless, maybe like Frenchie, he was just using me as an excuse to screw with the Brit. That was probably it.

"I-I think it might be too late now, but…"

"The fabulous moi has returned!" You know, how many times now had I gone to explain myself just to be interrupted my comedic things such as someone conveniently walking through a door right at that moment? …And was that fact a blessing or a curse?

Kirkland decked Frenchie before his foot even came in contact with the floor. ('Why does he always beat on Frenchie, but not Alfred?' I wondered to myself.) Then the party started.

…And then Alfred started _laughing_ at this, as if the two of them flinging each other across the room was a _joke_! Crazy millionaires, these guys were. How they got their money, I'd never know… Unless they weren't millionaires, but that concept was kind of hard to grasp, seeing as how the majority of the population of the earth don't own a mansion, much less two or four. Then again… now that I thought about it, Alfred, if not all of them looked a little young to be business tycoons. Well, actually, mainly Alfred. He looked acted a tad bit more youthful than the Frenchman and the Brit. Maybe he was a relative of Bill Gates.

I turned back to the battle which had now moved into the main room.

"No!" The next few seconds were in slow motion. I didn't really know why, the moment was far from dramatic, but my brain decided to spice things up or something. Or perhaps I was still a bit sugar high from the morning. Who knew?

Anyhow, as the world slowed, I saw Joe, my perfect crane and debt payer-offer; get smushed underneath the foot of Francypants. How sad. Looked like I still owed my friend.

But then the moment ended, and brows and the bearded one were back to trying to maul each other's faces off at full speed while Alfred continued to laugh and I just dumbly stood there as I seemed to do in strange situations like this.

After awhile, I felt a tug on my arm, and the next thing I knew, I was being dragged out of the house… by Alfred. I looked at him worriedly. What was going on? What was he doing? Why was he bringing me along? He grinned back at me broadly. Was that a smile of mischief or trust? Both?

I was pulled out to the driveway and up to the car. The grip on my arm was released. I looked up at Alfred who was looking down at me. We stared at each other expectantly before he nodded to the car.

"Aren't you gonna get in?" If it weren't for the fact that he was Alfred, a happy, cheerful guy who didn't look like the guy-chick inside, this would've been a scary situation. Actually, it still was, just not as bad. I gave him a puzzled look.

"Why…? I mean, what are you… we doing?" Alfred snickered.

"Getting revenge on Kirkland. Well… fail, totally not the most epic revenge out there, but it was the first idea that came to mind." Oh great. So now I was a hostage. No thanks. Besides, like I said, I was trying to refrain from angering Arthur as much as before, and leaving with a guy claiming to be getting "revenge" on him didn't sound like something that would make him the most pleased with me. I lowered my gaze, about to turn back.

"Aw, c'mon, I know you gotta hate that strict computer-hog at least as much as I do." How did he know about the computer… Whatever; in this case he was inferring that he didn't hate Kirkland one bit. Sure I _disliked_ the Englishman, but I didn't necessarily hate him. He was strict, annoying, temperamental, and scary, but he was… helping… me…

Okay, maybe I did hate him… But just a little.

I watched the front window rattle violently. It looked as if it was going to break at any second. Speaking of scary… I thought about the last time Frenchie visited. If tensions were as strong as that night, I wasn't exactly the keenest about hanging around there. Also, my presence was barely acknowledged during the fight as well as the rest of the night.

So Kirkland wouldn't notice or care too much if I went out for a little while, right? Even more so, I was with Alfred. Those two seemed to have a weird little bromance going on… Surely they trusted each other. I took a deep breath. It looked like I'd find out.

I ran to the other side of the car, where I presumed the passenger's side was. Turned out it was the driver's side. I blinked dumbly before realizing my mistake. I headed back to the other side.

"Stupid Europeans," I muttered, "They really need to start fixing their cars."

Alfred laughed. "True that!"

* * *

"Y'know, you never answered my question… Iggy didn't either, come to think of it."

"Hm?" I stopped looking out the window and turned to face him.

"I asked what you were doing at Arthur's house…" I didn't bother telling him the reason as to why I never answered was because I was interrupted and never asked again.

"Where do you want me to start?" Alfred shrugged. That was helpful. I decided to skip the obvious. "Okay, so, when we got to my house my family wasn't there… and neither was the furniture or anything that my family owned."

"Wrong house?" Alfred joked.

"That's what I thought, but I knew the code to get in… Then… then I tried to phone, like, every single member of my family that I knew, but according to the phone company, they didn't exist!" Alfred looked a little confused and skeptical. "Then the flying bunny came and… Oh, the fairies! They just won't leave me alone! But for some reason Kirkland seems pretty entertained that I can see them, even though I didn't until a week ago… Something's telling me that they have something to do with this situation, but I don't know how because I honestly don't think pixies are powerful enough to make my family disappear off the face of the earth…"

I stopped my explanation. I was getting way off topic… That and I could tell that Spectacles was biting his lip to keep from laughing in front of me. I glared at him. Had he been in my shoes, he'd be pretty freaked out too.

…Oh. Oh wait. Never mind. I understood now.

"You sound so much like Iggy right now…" Yup. He was laughing for the exact reason as to why I didn't tell this to the FBI, and, honestly, I probably would've laughed too if someone told me this exact story.

It was because fairies, pixies, and flying bunnies was, is, and would always be fiction, only to be believed by the foolish and mental. Now I was one of them. I sighed. "Forget the last part… please."

"Sure thing, bro." I attempted to tell him the rest of the story, but it had quite a few holes with the neglectance of mentioning anything magic related. I didn't really think that Alfred cared, though. Actually, I was a little uncertain that he was paying attention at all after awhile, but I let it be that way.

I turned my gaze back outside to the rolling hills and scattered trees all basking in the sunlight. It was clear that we weren't in London anymore. Where were we going, anyway? I hoped that the trip wouldn't be too long. Even if Kirkland didn't care, I'd still be paranoid that he would.

"Well, I'm hungry." I wasn't sure of how good a driver Alfred was, but the next thing he did was, not only take both hands off the steering wheel, but turn around and start rummaging through something in the back… all while leaving the car to continue flying down the long stretch of empty highway. Were it not for the word "empty" in that sentence, I would have expressed my fear and panic, but my inner voice was telling me to trust him.

Well, until we started to slowly swerve into the other lane. That's when the alarms started to drown the voice out. "Alfred… the car is swerving…" He turned back a little and I noticed the giant pile of burgers in his arms. _THEN HE TURNED BACK TO GET SOME MORE_!

"Don't worry about it. We'll be fine." The approaching ditch was telling me otherwise… Along with the imaginary semi-truck that I could so clearly see plunging strait into us, crushing my heart and my skull, and ending my short life instantly. I slowly and shakily grabbed the steering wheel, pulling it slightly in my direction, trying to coax the car back on to the other side of the road. Unfortunately, my pull wasn't strong enough and my action had no effect.

I started to pull down a little harder as Alfred began to face himself forward again. I quickly slipped my hand off the wheel and into my lap. Alfred casually moved the car back into the other lane, already munching on one of the many "snacks" he brought from the back.

"See," he said, his mouth full, "I'm the hero, there's nothing to worry about as long as I'm here!" He swallowed and I watched in amazement as he inhaled three more burgers in two seconds. I half wondered if he had a nickname of "Jughead". It definitely worked. Well, switching personalities, it did.

"Yeah," I meekly replied, "Sorry for underestimating you."

* * *

If I were to judge by the landscape, I would've said that we had been traveling much longer than a half hour, but the clock said otherwise, so I figured that I was mistaken. Except that the weather was a bit warmer here in this town, which I found kind of odd.

We pulled into another house, one quite a bit different from Arthur's. I was still clueless as to where we were, but, like on the plane, I hadn't asked, and didn't really feel like asking now, especially since we were already there. We walked up to the door, which was promptly opened a split second before Alfred was going to knock.

For some reason the first thing I noticed about the scowling man in front of us was the random bit of hair that stood up completely out of place from the rest of his locks. There was something strangely familiar about that…

He shouted something (and by something, I mean words that I couldn't understand because they weren't in English) into the house before roughly shoving through us and off to wherever he was going. Alfred stepped inside, so I followed suit.

"Hey! Feli!" Another man, this one only clad in boxers and a tee, ran up to us.

"America! Ho dimenticato che venivi oggi!" The lighter brunette playfully slapped himself, his tongue suddenly switching to English, "Silly me!"

"Don't worry about it, bro. As long as you don't mind, I don't either." He fished out some more papers seemingly out of nowhere and handed them to the foreign-speaking one, who was saying some more stuff in whatever language he was speaking. I looked at the both of them. Shoot. I didn't know that Specs was bilingual. Then again, this twisted journey was full of surprises. Heck, it would be a surprise if there were no more surprises!

The man now took note of me and made a bounding step so that he was real close. I took a step back. I didn't mean to be rude, but he was kind of pushing the limits of what qualified as my personal space. When the face was so close that it blurred, the person was in the boundaries of awkward.

"Chi è questo? Chi è questo?" He cheerfully asked, bouncing a bit. I looked up to Alfred for a translation. His grin grew a bit again.

"The kid doesn't speak the Italiano." Alfred explained to the (apparently) Italian. The brunette's smile disappeared for a second, but quickly returned.

"Oh… sorry." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Feliciano!" He leaned in, invading my space once more. "I represent the northern half of Italy!" Come by me again? That last part… I shook my head. I was hearing things. Even so, I wanted clarification.

"Uh… sorry…" I lied "I totally zoned out there after the Fe… Feli…"

"Feliciano," he finished, beaming. His hand was still extended, so I took it, getting a hearty shake in return. "I represent northern Italy! Well, not that there's an official boundary between the north and south anymore… But, whatever!" Well, well, well… More surprises to prevent the surprise of the end of no more surprises.

I was in a dream.

I had found myself in the land of Hetalia (that was why they were seemingly millionaires), and the only explanation to that was that this was all fake. Of course, that meant that this was one heck of a long, detailed dream… and I didn't remember going to bed or getting knocked out or anything. Maybe it was my fall… But that part was strange too, so one would think that it was part of the dream… And was even possible to think you're dreaming in a dream? Arrggg… Things weren't adding up… But this had to be a dream, because it made more sense than magically teleporting to a fictional world… Magically…

Was it possible that the magical beings here took their magic to my world and…

Pfft. Yeah right. That was the most stupid theory ever.

…But everything else I could think of sounded as equally idiotic. Why did that one sentence have to make my situation that more confusing?

However, if I really was awake… Then I was blinder than a dead duck not to have noticed this earlier. The Hetalia thing, that is. I mean, a big-browed Brit who knew a freaking _flying mint bunny_ and fought with a Frenchman (whose name I still didn't know). Come to think of it, Alfred had called him "England" a few times, but I had brushed it off, thinking that it was another nickname. But, seriously, it wasn't even like I quit the series that long ago. How did I not get the hint?

"I'm Erin," I said with a polite smile, trying my best to hide my hectic feelings. The handshake ended and Feliciano… Italy… began to skip away from us.

"Come in! Come in!" He cried over his shoulder, "It's around dinner time yes? Come eat with us! Germany's here too!" Right then I took note that the clocks were an hour ahead. Alfred had started walking halfway through the sentence, and I followed like a duckling.

"Dooshland's here," he chuckled to himself.

"You don't say that to his face do you?" Even though my brain was still exploding, I was still somehow able to make my voice and body function as normal.

"Of course I do! I think he's heard every good remark in the book from me!" I personally though that was a wish for a painful way to end your life, but he was still fine and standing… Alfred, that was… or America… I noticed the funny cowlick for the first time… and just how many times he had called himself a "hero".

"You're America, aren't you?" He looked at me brows furrowed.

"What d'ya mean? I'm just a government worker."

…

…Close enough… But still a false presumption.

Alfred looked at my frowning face and his smile returned. He playfully slugged me in the arm. "I'm messing with you. You're right." Oh, okay… My brains were still exploding either way. If he was a government worker, it'd just happen to be a little more so.

"…And then Kirkland is…"

"The most British man out there!" Alfred cried, giving me a thumbs up. I grinned a bit, but then realized something else.

"In that case… why didn't you guys tell me sooner…?"

"Well, it's not just something we go around announcing to the public…" He adjusted his glasses and turned to me, as I had stopped walking. Had I just learned some sort of great government secret? Was I going to be taken in and forced not to speak of this again? If I did, was I doomed?

Alfred's smile returned yet again with the sight of my beautiful (horrified) face. "It's not a big deal if a single kid finds out though." I let out a silent sigh of relief. He had me worried there.

We started walking again, and were in the kitchen within ten seconds. Alfred (for the people that I knew, I was still going by the "normal" names for now) seemed to know his way around. Inside, someone was scrubbing the counter fiercely.

"'Sup, Dooshland." Alfred nudged me with his elbow and winked. Germany, as was pointed out, seemed to ignore him. "You lost something y'know?"

Germany stopped cleaning and turned around. I didn't know why, but the sight of him in reality caught me off guard a little. He was so stereotypical, it wasn't even funny. On the contrary, he intimidated me. But… man, the counter was shiny…

"What's that? World War Two?" Alfred mockingly put a hand to his ear, as if listening. "Well, that's correct!"

Another person (or nation) came in from out of nowhere and slammed Alfred's head against the wall.

"Those stupid jokes have gone from annoying to old." Alfred laughed, even though he was being crushed into the plaster.

"You're just mad 'cause it's true!"

"Like heck I am! If anything it's reverse!" The white-haired (presumably German, judging by his accent) man pushed a little harder on Alfred's poor head. Specs began to struggle a bit against him, but continued laughing all the same.

"Over my dead body! Let go of me, albino!"

"I'm not an albino," White hissed, but he let go anyway. He turned in my direction, and, though I could tell that he was a bit surprised, he smirked very, very confidently. His red eyes bore into me. "Hallo."

* * *

_**Notes:** Firstly, I used google translate for the Italian and German, so please feel free to correct me if I went wrong somewhere._

_Translations: _

_Ho dimenticato che venivi oggi!=I forgot that you were coming today!_

_Chi è questo? Chi è questo?=Who's this? Who's this?_

_Hallo.=Hello_

_Okay! Moving on!_

_I'm two days late... *shifty eyes* and I don't think anybody noticed or cared... I'm still going to work on being faster!_

_Also, thank you for the reviews and favourites! They always make me so, so happy!_

_As well, I now you guys keep saying that this is funny, but, I know I can be far more witty, so if you have any tips or ideas on improving my humor, please let me know! Everything else is as always!_


	8. Pasta and Prayers

Well, "Hallo" sounded pretty darn close to "Hello", so I was just going to assume that was what it meant. Not that I was the best at making assumptions, but this didn't really take a genius to figure out.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and gave a small smirk back. "Uh… hey." White laughed and ruffled my hair.

"Don't know why, but I take it he's with you?" He said to Alfred, getting a headshake in return.

"He was at Iggy's, actually."

"That guy's so screwed up, I'm not going to even bother asking."

I pondered who this guy was. I didn't think I had seen him make his appearance in the anime… Then again, I didn't even get through season one, much less even look at the guy's blog. There was a lot I probably missed.

"What's your name, kid?" White asked turning back to me. I answered, and returned the question.

He laughed loudly, placing his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest a little. "I am THE AWESOME Gilbert Beilschmidt! THE AWESOME personification of the GREAT PRUSSIA!" His voice rose a little. "THE MOST POWERFUL KINGDOM TO EXIST!"

"…Not anymore…" Germany retorted from his positing at scrubbing the gleaming counter again.

"Can it, West!" I couldn't help but smile a bit at Gilbert's cockiness, even though the stuff going into my brain was just pushing it closer and closer to shutting it down. (Like, why were the two Germans speaking English? Also, why was everyone speaking their nation names so casually now? Unless they all heard what went down at the door…)

Feli dashed into the room, now fully clothed.

"Everything's on the table! Why aren't you eating?" He cried.

"Well, we were kind of waiting for you…" Germany replied, peering at the counter, seeming to be inspecting it to see if he missed any microscopic pieces of dust. Man… and I thought that Kirkland was a stickler for cleanliness.

"Why would you do that? It's not like I'm not going to get any food if I eat later!" Germany shook his head.

"That's not the point…" But while saying that, he put down the cloth in his hand and headed to the table with the other four-no, three of us. Alfred had already gone to serve himself and was eating heartily. I took a place beside him while Feli served himself, ranting about how much he loved pasta.

I had to admit, he somehow made the topic interesting. Or maybe it was because he was talking so fast it was an exercise in itself just to keep up with what he was saying. No one complained about it, though… and he just went on and on and on. From siestas to the hot babes he saw earlier, back to pasta. That guy was a show of his own. Then again, that was how he was in the anime.

…And as I realized that fact, I realized how much creepier my situation got.

While I knew quite a bit about Alfred and Germany and all those guys that appear in the beginning of Hetalia, they probably didn't know half as much about me. That made me sound like some sort of intelligent stalker freak. I wondered if I should inform them about that… or tell them everything about myself to make up for it…

Well, I'd think about that later. I'd leave everything as it was for the time being.

I slucked my spaghetti while attempting to listen to Feliciano, who was telling another story; this one being something about a girl and eating pasta with her.

…And, yes, I _slucked_ it. These noodles were real long. It was kind of fun, actually. It brought back memories of previous attempts that always failed with the noodle either breaking or being too short. I had declared it comical fiction that was not possible two years ago.

But here I was, successfully slucking the world's longest noodles. Of course, all the impossible was becoming possible as of late, so this probably wasn't something that I should have been so excited about. With that thought in mind, I wondered if I would find someone else slurping the same noodle at the end… You know, like Lady and the Tramp style. That would be cool. Weird, but cool.

An idea barely related to all this shoved all other thoughts aside right then, and as I perked up, my noodle conveniently came to its end and whiplashed me. Ironic.

"Hey, Fe-ee…" I started, my mouth extremely full (because it's kind of hard to swallow while slucking, so I just let the food accumulate in my mouth).

"Hm?" I choked before I could get on with my sentence, causing an awkward silence as I tried to stop my gag reflexes and swallow my food. Alfred slapped me hard on the back, nearly causing me to spit it out all over the place, but somehow, that helped me stop coughing. I successfully swallowed this time, slamming my hands down on the table with satisfaction.

"Okay, so, seeing as how you're Italy and all…" I tried to ignore the disgusted glances from Germany. They reminded me of Kirkland's glares when he was mad. "That would mean that you know the pope, right?"

"But of course! The pope has been around for as long as I can remember!" That meant over three hundred years ago… Aug. Confusion. Headache. I stopped thinking about that immediately and continued on with my point.

"But, I, uh, noticed that you didn't bless this meal…" Feliciano cocked his head to the side.

"Huh… I guess not… How interesting. I wonder when that stopped? Do you want me to? Because I can if you do…"

"Oh no, that's not necessary if you don't want…" Before I could finish (I was cursed with some sort of interruption thing, wasn't I?) he had stood up.

"THANK YOU GOD FOR PASTA!" He belted, then sat down and resumed eating and talking about whatever it was he was talking about before. Gilbert snickered and Germany elbowed him, muttering something under his breath.

Now it was my turn to cock my head. That was it? Seriously? I had been expecting a little (a lot) more than that… Like, the kind of prayer that was so peaceful and long that one practically fell asleep halfway through it. Like how the popes did it in the movies.

Then again, maybe this really was how the popes prayed. Maybe the portrayals were all wrong and they belted out quick and simple prayers. I wouldn't know. I was the person who thought that Africa was a country for the longest time. I was stupid and I knew it.

I'd have to ask about this… Later, with my other stuff. Feli was talking at full speed and I was done being nosy for the night.

* * *

**_Notes: _**_Firstly, are these notes annoying? Should I stop?_

___Secondly, call me overly-cautious, but if anyone finds anything offensive in this ((like how I brought up the stereotyped pope)) just let me know. I want to keep the flames from starting, seeing as how they haven't so far. _

_Thirdly, there was supposed to be more to this chapter but I was having trouble thinking up stuff, and my motivation had gone kaput on me. However... one of the main reasons to that was because I was so excited thinking about what I am going to put in the next chapter! Please continue to stick with me! It's going to get better, I promise! :)_


	9. Fun with Genderbending

It had been one day since my elaborate return from Feli's and already I was forced into grief… Kirkland hadn't been happy with my running off with Alfred, but I hadn't really cared then.

But now I was ashamed… so very, very ashamed…

Okay, actually, maybe more afraid then ashamed, but… same difference. They both started with A anyway.

I pulled myself tighter into a ball, my eyes fixed on the book strewn a few feet away from me. Arthur wasn't going to be happy when he found out about this. For the first time in my life I wished that I hadn't asked to be informed once my machine love, the computer, was open yet again. If only I knew how to fix this…

But I wasn't going to read the goth book again. Because, apparently, the pictures have nothing to do with the corresponding spells. Nopedy doo. I just had to learn that the hard way.

I sighed, burying my head into my soft arms. Why did I have to ask Minty about the goth library? Why did I have to see what it said about containing spells was true? Why did I think that there might be a spell in here to help me? Why did I have to give all this junk a whirl?

…Why did I suddenly have to obtain the ability to cast spells and curses?

I looked down at my newfound boobs and then quickly back up, both blushing and grimacing at the same time. I really needed to learn to think things through. Or, at least when going into magical rooms that I was banned from. I shouldn't have gone in there, no matter how badly I wanted to help my situation. It was a stupid, half-thought out plan anyway. I mean, really. What good would summoning fairies do to me? Sure, I planned to interrogate them, but would they seriously answer? They'd probably fly away, and even if I did catch them, I'd probably kill the delicate things in the process. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I slid out of my ball and onto my knees, my upper torso seemingly gaining ten pounds. Ick. I didn't know how girls could stand having their body types. It was torture. Maybe this was because I wasn't exactly used to this, but still. Of course, there was that, and I was pretty certain my female self was a little top-heavy, even for a fourteen-year-old. Not that I stared at my… my "girls", or anything like that… Or… Well… I did… but when your chest is suddenly protruding way further than it normally would, it's kind of hard not to stare. I'm not a pervert!

…Actually… yes. Come to think of it, I probably am. But putting these matters aside… I began to mourn.

_Why fate? Why me? What did I ever to wrong to land me here in such a state? _Wait a second…I stopped my thoughts for a moment. _Never mind, fate. Ignore that last question. _I didn't want to make fate angry by raging at it with lies.

I lifted my shirt (my face burning a bit in the process) and began to tie it tightly underneath my chests. It was a makeshift bra (don't ask about anything). When I moved, I jiggled, and that was almost as queer as Death groping my heart. I yanked the knot, but the shirt wasn't nearly tight enough, so I undid it and tried again.

As I did so, I heard a long and low whistle that caused me to look up. I saw my favourite ghost floating toward me. Yippee. I lowered my gaze again. His appearance still quite creeped me out a bit. Not as much as it did the first time for some reason, but still a bit.

He laughed and sat (while still floating) beside me. "If you go out like that, the boys are gonna chase you, and then your gonna be all like 'I'm sorry boys! But alas our love shall never be!' 'Less, of course, your gay, in which I apologize."

I yanked the knot real tight and swerved my body a bit. This idea of mine wasn't really helping matters much, but it was still better than leaving myself be. It would do for now.

"I like the female sex, don't worry." I attempted to look at his face, but that resulted in failure. I just kept my focus on his right shoulder, the only part of his body that didn't seem to be torn to shreds. I gave a derpy smile to the shoulder. "I might have to make a switch, though, if Kirkland or me doesn't fix this soon." I got another laugh from Jolly Jack.

"It's Kirkland and _I_," he corrected, not that I really cared. "Speaking of the git, I wonder how he'll react to this, hm?" That was exactly what I didn't want to find out.

…Hang on a sec, here… My gaze hardened a bit and Ghosty looked a bit confused because of that. "How did you recognize me… You know, Erin the male? How did you know that I wasn't some chick stopping by?" I didn't like… well, I guess not necessarily high-pitched… but how _girly_ my voice was coming out. It was strange to hear. I didn't like that... But not half as mcuh as the boobs. I hated them.

"I saw the whole thing go down!" Jolly Jack bellowed, his expression returning to normal. "Here I was, just hanging out here," That was kind of weird and stalker-ish… "And then you come down here being all Double O Seven and all, searching the bookshelves. I hid in the corner of the room, seeing as what happened last time we encountered…" I winced at the memory, but started to feel… was that guilt? I sighed. Well, he was just trying to get on good terms with me and I ran away.

"I'm sorry if that offended you," I actually said honestly, which was surprising, because my apologies weren't normally honest. "You know, with what happened last time." Ghosty snorted before I could continue on.

"What for?" he retorted, "If anything, it should be from me to you! Besides, that was barely the reason anyway." Why bring it up then? "I hid in the corner 'cause I didn't want you to see me and say something. I didn't want to blow your cover!" Well, it was nice to know that Ghosty was supportive of my breaking of the rules in someone else's house, despite the fact that was how I landed myself in this situation within the bigger situation.

My legs were falling asleep, so I returned to my ball/tuck position, some of my now long locks falling forward. "You wouldn't know how to reverse this, would you?" I asked Jolly, getting another hearty laugh in return. My hoped rose a little.

"Nope! Sorry! Would if I could, but I can't make sense of that magical spell-y language no matter how hard I try!" You know, there was a thing to be said for hoping. Having hope was good.

Having hope in times such as this to get a flat out rejection response… not so much. It just led to kamikazes into the Sea of Despair… that was if you hoped enough. I hadn't had that much hope, so my plane of… whatever motivational word you want to call it, was still afloat, though still in the sea. Stupid book. Stupid pictures. Stupid fairies… pixies… whatever.

"Oh!" Ghosty perked up.

"What is it?" Ghosty had stood up, still forever hovering. He had a thoughtful hand to his chin and… appeared to be checking me out, oddly enough. I gave him a questioning look.

"You have a very fine figure… especially for a kid your age…" So he was checking me out. Pervert. There had better been a reason as to that… A good one too.

"You know, Arthur's, like, an omega virgin-"

"No." I cut him off. I didn't even want to know what he was planning. No. No way. Dang it. He'd already planted thoughts I didn't want to think, even though they were completely unrelated to this. Why? What was wrong with me? I tried to shove them out.

"…And with that…" Ghosty continued on, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "He is very chivalrous. That meaning, he probably won't get very mad at you… Or rather, he probably will, but he just won't strike you."

"He doesn't strike me anyway."

"Well shoot, now my planning didn't pay off one bit." I let out an exasperated sigh. This guy was hopeless.

"Your plan being…?" I cocked an eyebrow, folding my arms across my squishy chest.

"To be honest, I don't really know myself. It seemed pretty smart at the first second, but I forget what that even was." Like I said, hopeless.

"Though I gotta admit," he continued, smiling a bit bigger, "If I was told to imagine your wimpy man-self genderbent, I never would have thought it'd look like the hottie before me." Okay, so now I was presuming that he had checked me out for the sake of admiring me. No plan whatsoever. This guy was starting to get on my nerves. That last remark also didn't help matters one bit. I probably would've been real mad had I not known it was true. My man-self was a wimpy twerp that failed mom big time.

"So… you've got no idea of what I should do?" My hope plane was beginning to sink.

"Play innocent…?"

"Or hide."

"That could work too, unless you aren't going to fix this yourself."

"I'll hide for a week and then get Kirkland to fix this. Hopefully he won't be as mad."

"Either that, or he'll be ten times worse." That was a confidence booster.

There was an awkward silence and I was pretty sure Ghosty was about to say something, but then the door to the goth library opened. (Cursed, I tell you!) Oh no… I shrunk up against the wall again as Ghosty winked at me just before melding into the wall to who-knows-where. Or wherever stalker ghosts go.

Kirkland took a step in and I made myself smaller. Would Kirkland be mad? Oh wait, he was England, the place of people with reasonable arguments and sarcastic humor. He'd been annoyed with me before I even came here. Of course he would be. On that note…

I still hadn't told Kirkland that I knew that he was England yet. But I had hoped that I'd get to go home with my family there before any of that was brought up. I still felt like a creep for knowing more about him, then he did me (or so I assumed… and if I was wrong… then that was a little… no, lot… creepy.), but, I mean, first off, it wasn't _that _much more and… what could I do about it but tell him, which I clearly wasn't doing yet, or most likely, never? It would just worsen things. You know, for the same reason that, if wishes and nuts were candies and butts, we'd see which one filled up first.

Yep.

Candies and butts… heehee… Sewage mimes… "Look Arthur! I'm being abducted by aliens!"… lawl.

Ah… yeah… Kirkland would probably hate me if I used that sort of humor on him wouldn't he?

…

…

…Wasn't I freaking out just a minute ago?

The feeling of Kirkland's hand on my shoulder reminded me of that. I turned my face to him, my guilt returning.

"Don't tell me you dulled your senses too."

"Fine, I won't," I retorted, "I did the complete opposite and refrained from doing so." Good-bye guilt.

A long silence followed, and I believed that may have been because Kirkland wanted my guilt to re-settle and make me fess up and kiss his slippered feet or something. But that didn't work. My guilt was gone and wasn't coming back for a good couple of hours. If he wanted to make me feel guilty, he was going to have to use a different approach.

The compunction was coming back, however… And while I didn't want to kiss his slippers because of that, it made me want to plead for the keeping of my respect in this house which was probably quikly draining to nothing right about then.

"Please… please don't kill me," I squeaked pitifully, "I-I-I know that I'm not supposed to be in here and messing with your weird stuff, but… but…" My voice drained away as I had become too shame-faced to say much more about why exactly I was in there. I wasn't entirely sure of how that was embarrassing, but for some reason the thought that I had thought that I was helping by summoning fairies felt kind of lame. Especially since I failed. I didn't really think it would make Arthur any happier, either, though making him actually happy seemed to be an impossible feat.

"The fact that you're in here isn't my biggest concern right now." Kirkland sighed.

I pursed my lips and kept my focus downward, as if the dancing shadows on the floor were putting a show on for me.

…Oh wait… They were. I quickly realized that they'd taken on the form of some sort of peasant dance. Interesting…

I heard Kirkland rise and shuffle over to the book I had thrown before turning a few pages.

"Do you at least roughly know where you found the spell?" He asked dully, and I bit my upper lip, still watching the British hoedown. I honestly didn't know. I had just trusted fate to do its job… Meaning that I had randomly grabbed a book, flipped to an entirely random page, flipped three pages to the left… or was it right… and saw the misleading fairy picture. I didn't even pay attention to whether I was closer to the front or the back. I really needed to start using my head more often…

But I didn't want nor think that I'd be starting anytime soon.

"I-I was on page seventy-five… page seventy-five," I lied, standing up and making my way to the door. I didn't know why I was lying, it certainly didn't seem necessary but it was too late to correct myself by then.

"Where are you going?" He asked, his tone not lightening up one bit. I continued shuffling past him, avoiding eye contact.

"I have to pee," I mumbled, "Real bad."

That was a lie too (like heck I was doing anything that involved removing my clothes), but I didn't want to have to explain why the page was wrong. I needed to stall, if anything, to make me feel a little better for the moment.

I shuffled into the bathroom and locked the door behind me before turning to face the mirror. What I saw caught me off guard.

Man… those curves… _Those curves_! Ghostly really wasn't lying when he said I had a fine figure. I made myself feel bad for looking at myself. My shirt was tied so tight and so much skin was showing…

I blushed despite myself. I still had quite a few of my guy brain cells left it seemed (though I could kind of feel myself becoming girl-a-fied or whatever it's called). Though I wasn't untying the shirt until my chests were protruding as much as a normal man that doesn't have man-boobs did. I didn't have to look in the mirror, but I couldn't slice off my new boobs. That would be gross and would hurt and I would probably be putting my life on the line.

Yeesh… Ghosty also made a very valid point on how my girl-self looked positively nothing like my guy/real-self. As far as my male body went, while I had definitely hit puberty (some of the hairy, athletic types that were already growing moustaches disagreed, but I didn't listen to them), it was nothing compared to the chick in the mirror. She looked much older than a fourteen-year-old. She looked like she had started wearing a bra at eight or something.

Impressive… Most impressive… Ew. Gross. I sounded creepy. Even if it was myself, it was still creepy.

Then it struck me… Maybe the reason my female self was so beautiful was because it took all the hotness, smarts, and coolness from my male self. It all made sense now… Cruel, cruel fate. I still wanted to return to my former state though. Men were the superior sex after all.

…I needed to stop staring at myself.

I turned around, sighing. Kirkland had probably realized that I lied by now if he hadn't already. Come to think of it, did the book even have page numbers? Oh dear… Oh dear me…

I slowly opened the door and peered out. Seeing that the coast was clear and Kirkland free, I went into stealthy ninja mode and began to advance in the direction that led to my room.

Alas, it was not as easy a feat as I had imagined, as my boobage just kept me feeling awkward the whole way there (especially up the stairs), but I did it. But I did it. Even if it wasn't easy, it was possible. I ducked into my room and silently closed the door behind me. From there I sulked. I sulked about being a girl. I sulked about my boob size. I sulked about being here in the first place. I sulked about my failed spell.

But after about five minutes I got bored and decided that, if I was going to sulk it may as well be on the computer. I crept out of my room and into Arthur's where, needless to say, I was kind of surprised to find him, sitting on the bed, still reading the goth book. I wasn't entirely sure of why I was so surprised, he did have a right to move around his own house, after all, but I had just expected him to be in the library still.

Thankfully, but oddly, he didn't really take notice of me… or probably just didn't care to; but either way I progressed as normal.

Except that the device now needed a password. Since when did it need a password? I cast Kirkland a suspicious glare. He was losing his trust in me, wasn't he? But that didn't make sense since I was pretty sure I lost it by the third day. So why would he put the password in now? What was the reason? IT DIDN'T MAKE SENSE KIRKLAND!

I held my stare for a full five minutes… without blinking… before he finally noticed my gorgeous face.

…And in that moment I couldn't tell who was stupider; him or me. The little voice in my head was muttering that it was me, but only because my tear ducts had dried out and I wasn't able to blink anymore. He was still pretty dang dumb not to notice me… unless… he was just… ignoring…

_AW, HECK! WHY KIRKLAND! WHY? _

I had just been outsmarted by a Brit who basically just ignored me. By ignoring me he had outsmarted me. That was just plain stupid on my part, and now my eyes were paying for it.

Kirkland glared back at my glare, which was actually more of a grimace now, as I was trying to force my eyelids to close again. I could feel the vitreous humor drying out and it wasn't nice.

…And I wasn't joking. As inhumanly possible as it seemed, I was almost certain that my eyes were going to the point where no liquid would remain.

"What?" Kirkland asked.

I rubbed my eyes, successfully closing them. Thank goodness. They were seriously starting to hurt. I wasn't ever staring that long again.

"Well, for one thing, either you're going blind." I decided to leave the ignoring out of this. It would make the remark less… how would you put it… "effective" I guess… effective in having the best argument, which would probably still be beaten out by this guy.

"Your one to talk," Arthur huffed. I crossed my arms, much like him, and huffed back.

"Firstly, I'd think I'd notice if I'm being watched after _five minutes_!" Kirkland's expression did not brighten any. "Secondly, even if I didn't, not only am I a teenager, but I'm American. It is alright for me. You, on the other hand, are a British adult. Therefore, it isn't right for you."

"Have fun making friends," he replied sarcastically. That remark would've stung if it were not true.

"Too late!" I laughed, "I'm _already _friendless!"

I winced inwardly at my own comment, but my insides cheered at the same time. It was fun to make cracks about myself… but I knew that in the incoming school year, my lack of friends wasn't going to be something to brag about.

…But it was summer, the time when I wouldn't want to hang out anyway, so it was okay to do so.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but I kept up my façade.

"Now," I said in a commanding voice, "If you would so kindly tell me the code of passing to your computing device _IN WHICH YOU SO KINDLY INSTALLED_!" Kirkland looked up, bushy brows furrowed in annoyance.

"It's always been there. I don't see any point in getting uptight about it now." I felt myself get tenser and tenser. The main reason; because he was right. Again. Like always. I hated that so much.

When I thought about it, the boring blue screensaver was already there whenever I went on…

"It's KZY35OE," he continued, turning another page of the book. I blinked and then turned around to type it in to the system. As it loaded, I shook my head.

"Shoot. My password's always either 'poop' or 'constipation'." Kirkland gave me a look that plainly said 'You've got to be kidding me', but I ignored it. I turned around and impatiently waited for the internet to load.

"Hey Kirkland…" I didn't wait for an answer. "Do you mind if I listen to music?" I probably would even if he told me not to, but, whatever… I was seriously missing my Vocaloid loves dearly, especially in this time of such dire need of comfort. Gumi… IA…

"As long as it's quiet, then sure." Good man, jump in.

Sir Topham Hatt reference there… you know, before they ruined all the tank engines and the fatty.

…Anyway…

"Hey Kirkland," I half considered saying that ten more times in the next hour, but he was the one getting me back into my former state, so I didn't really want to push it _that_ far. My brains had been missing for awhile now, so being a nuisance was inevitable, but getting it to the point that whomever was actually spending time with this child utterly gave up on me was something I could control. "Do you like Vocaloid?" He sighed. It was barely audible, but I still heard it.

"Do you want me to help you or answer your stupid questions?"

I glumly looked down at my boobs. "Both." I was an idiot. I needed my stupid questions to be answered. Especially now that I was a girl. A girl with hormones. The world was mine now.

There was a brief pause before Kirkland responded again. "I'll try." His voice had taken that dull, monotonous tone again, but I was kind of surprised that he actually answered. I thought I would've gotten another eye-roll for sure. Perhaps I was just so annoying that I became lovable after awhile, so people couldn't refuse me. In the adult world, at least. If it worked that way in school, I would have kissed a girl by now.

Then Kirkland actually kept his word and answered.

"Well, one would think I would, seeing as how it was my people that invented it."

"WHAT?" I spun around. Why did I not know of this?

Why was I so surprised?

Despite the possible reasons, in the end that was still a pretty epic fact that I didn't know. It looked like this guy wasn't all boring. I hoped these discoveries kept up.

But Kirkland liked da Vocaloidzzzz! What more could I ask for?

…A lot, actually, but this was fine for now. "Now" being the next ten minutes. But even so, this was awesomesauce. It was goodness for my ears after being away from it for so long. It was kind of like a dog coming home to the familiar scent of roast beef cooking. It was amazing.

…And it just proved that I had no life at all. But I didn't care.

The fact that I was listening to it with the stuffiest Brit in the world made it that much more awesome. A little queer, but still awesome. Though it would've been better if he wasn't there. Apparently, I didn't have the brains to think of listening in the past four days, so I figured this was what I got.

"Do you have a secret beer storage somewhere in here?" Didn't know where that question came from. Didn't care. That was something I had been wondering too. I mean, England, like, the landmass, and the person too, I guessed, had a history of pirates, yes? "Yohoho and a bottle of rum"?

"You think I'd tell you if it's 'secret'?" Whoops… Did I seriously put the word "secret" in that sentence? Rhetorical question. My bad. I had just wanted to know if he had anything in here whatsoever.

"I didn't mean to say that… But come to think of it _do _you have a secret storage place?"

"You know, I'd appreciate it if you at least listened or kept your mouth shut and your pointless questions to yourself." Well, that was rather rude.

…But it just proved that he did. Have a secret storage place, rather.

"…And, no," he continued, "I don't." Eheheheh… Liar. I smirked smugly and turned back to the screen.

…And then the most brilliant idea struck me. My brain actually worked _that_ fast.

You see here, there's a thing in the twenty-first century that's all the rage and it's called the "internet". In the "internet" there are various "search engines". If you aren't getting me, please do not speak to me. Ever. Conversations would be awkward.

Anyway, I figured that there should at least be something in the vast world wide web that could at least have something to do with spells. Surely there had to be at least one thing to fix my girl problem.

Go figure, I looked up "spells" and got ten bazillion results. That was far too many, and most all of them appearing to have nothing to do with me and my situation, so I added in more keywords. I got only ten thousand results that time, but, guess what? _None of them actually had anything to do with what I was searching for_! But, I figured, one could not merely judge a book by its cover, so I clicked on various results for a good while. Guess what? _My initial instincts were right and I wasted a half hour of my time_!

I thought beck to how smart I had felt and was so proud of my accomplishment that _I got off the computer and went to eat some cake_! Yep. Please bask in all the sarcasm of that word "proud".

Now, I knew that it was pretty stupid to get so heated over such a minor thing, but my girl self was on PMS or something, and my two emotional selves were getting at a war on each other. Girl-self just happened to win this one because my male-self was hungry too. Why cake, I wasn't entirely sure, but I presumed that it had something to do with girls loving candy and sweets and all those things that make your dentist want to weep.

I rummaged through the fridge and after finding the cake, obviously, I cut myself a nice fat slice, and, too lazy to sit at a table, sat down with my plate right there in the middle of the floor and began to scarf the chocoholicness down.

…And then I heard a sound.

Now, normally I would have at least paid some attention to the noise that resembled a door opening, but the cake clogging my throat must have also blocked the passage to my hearing as well. However, it was kind of hard at least not to somewhat hear what came next.

"HEY ARTHUR!" Yet another accented voice bellowed, half laughing. "You home, ya bloke?"

I started choking on the cake. I wasn't out of surprise or anything, I just conveniently started choking right then. Obviously that caught the guy's attention, especially as I was never one to cough quietly, and apparently, my female self didn't either. She just sounded less scary in doing so.

"…Didn't know he was taking chicks home…" I heard him say quietly before feeling a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You okay, lass?"

I nodded my head vigorously. I was always fine… When it came to choking, anyway. In other cases I was fine until I wasn't. In which case I obviously wasn't fine. Mainly I didn't want to get whacked, though. When Alfred hit me, it had _hurt_. Not that I made a big fuss about it, instead I tried to ignore it, but if the leprechaun-sounding man just happened to hat that very spot again… ouchies for me.

Thankfully, my body got control of itself about as quickly as it had the night before, without a whack, and I looked up to the mystery man who had strolled in. (_Why does everyone just let themselves in? Why doesn't Arthur just lock the door if he doesn't like it? _ I asked myself.) He had freckles, which I found convenient with his voice and all. In fact, he looked very… Irish.

Eating my cake.

Irishman eating my cake. Not a good thing to do when a girlman's on PMS and just failed the greatest plan ever… especially when that girlman's got a thing with people touching hishers food.

I scowled and yanked the cake away from the idiot.

Freckles (_Ireland? _ I wondered to myself, but I wasn't going to be hasty with assuming yet… or, not in that moment, anyway…) laughed and I stuffed the rest of the cake in my mouth. Kirkland walked toward us from seemingly out of nowhere with his usual half-grimace-scowl etched into his features.

"You're tracking dirt all over the floors," he said boldly, and I took note that Freckles hadn't taken off his shoes.

He nodded, smiling a bit. "Aye, and you think I care?"

"Apparently not."

"I thought you learned that twenty years ago."

"Shut up."

"You're not supposed to answer rhetorical questions," I cut in. It bugged me when people were stupid enough to do so. The same went for sarcastic ones… which were the same, weren't they? _Rhetorical question_!

I got an eyeroll from that comment, but I ignored it. Freckled ruffled my hair, and I gave him a look sure to tell him that I was disturbed. Ever since Frenchie stroked my hair, it had become a creepy gesture. The fact that it had happened three times in the week didn't help. I didn't even know what it was that made my hair look stroke-able. My hair wasn't silky soft. Heck, I hadn't showered in well over a week.

"So where'd you pick up this cute little bunny?" he chuckled.

"Don't even get started on that."

"You're the one who took 'er home." There was a tense silence, but then Kirkland spoke up again. I began to pick up crumbs with my fingers and eat them. The crumbs; not my fingers.

"Firstly, it's a 'he'," he stated matter-of-factly, and that was kind of humorous to me for some reason.

"...And he got into my spellbooks." I pretended not to notice him staring my way and continued to eat the light coating of chocolate still on the plate. Freckles laughed, standing up.

"It's always the spellbooks, isn't it?" I hoped he wasn't being sarcastic, but I couldn't tell.

By now, I had started to feel a little awkward sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, so I stood up and put my still crumb-filled dish in the empty sink. When I turned around, Freckles was raiding the fridge as I had. Except, unlike me, instead of cake he turned around with a bottle in hand. A glass bottle. My small smug smirk returned. Knew it.

Oh wait… but he said… no "secret" storage… not plainly in the fridge…

I had to stop doing this to myself. It was just making Kirkland look better even though all he did was sit there and look pretty. But also, why hadn't I seen them before? The bottles, I mean? Weird. I was going blind. Maybe I mistook them for tobacco sauce…

"That's the only reason as to why you came here, isn't it…"

"No, my house was bombed by those bloody American dolts and all my money burned and I wanted a drink." With that, Ireland (Whoops… "Freckles"…) popped off the cap with a device from his pockets. I eyed him enviously.

I had always wanted to know what beer tasted like. Not that I wanted to be a frequent drinker or anything like that. Oh no… I didn't want to risk becoming an alcoholic. But ever since I saw the drink I had always wondered what it tasted like. For obvious reasons mom wouldn't let me, my brother, or even my dad near the stuff, whether it was hidden away in fridges or out in the open at New Year's parties and such. But I just wanted one sip…

"Yes, okay," Kirkland started, ushering Freckles to the door, "I'll come help you tomorrow. You have your drink. You can leave now. Good-bye." The two left the kitchen, and seeing an amazing, but quickly decided opportunity, I quickly whipped open the fridge again and shoved my way to the back, where the bottles were. I smiled a bit, despite myself.

"Wait. Wait. Wait…" I heard the heavy Irish accent say in the other room, "You honestly think I came out here for a beer?"

"No," Kirkland replied slowly, "You're passing through and want a drink on the way home, wherever you came from. Not that I care." There was a brief silence, and then Freckles spoke up again.  
"Shoot. I didn't know you loved me so much, brother." Nations could be related? I shook my head. Nah… I must've been hearing things. Either that or I was probably over-thinking again.

"Knowing you has nothing to do with love." I struggled to pull the cap off. I thought my fingers were going to start bleeding. For a brief second I wondered if it was worth it… but I decided that it was. Especially if I got home soon. With my parents there. Whether or not my brother had to return was something I didn't care the most about. Not that I was overly confident about that… but it had been nearly a week of Kirkland's "helping" whatever the freaking heck that was. I honestly didn't know how he was, but, apparently, he was.

I yanked with the greatest force I ever had, and finally the cap came off. Unfortunately, my fingers got sliced in the process. I almost dropped the bottle. The key word being "almost". I didn't drop it. I was safe.

I wrinkled my nose at the smell, but immediately took a big gulp.

…Which I almost spat out. It wasn't that it tasted terrible, but my body just couldn't handle it. It burned, actually… burned my insides. It wasn't the greatest feeling. I continued to choke the liquid down and made a face. I figured alcohol took some getting used to… or rather, tries. I examined the bottle.

Well, there was no better way to get my body to adapt than by chugging the entire thing down, right?

…But then I'd get drunk, wouldn't I? I didn't really like the thought of losing control of myself, especially in this genderbent form much less with Kirkland just around the corner. Oh yeah… he could walk in on me any minute now, couldn't he? _Rhetorical question_!

I had planned to take only one gulp and then out it back, so that wasn't as much a concern. But that was the worst drink ever.

Okay. Just one more. One more sip. No chugging it down.

I put the bottle to my lips, and as promised with myself, took only a sip. Well, it was a pretty big sip, almost a swig, but still a sip. It still sucked big time. No magical sudden adapting and yummy goodness, for better or worse. I looked at the bottle semi-angrily before trying to put the cap back on again, which proved to be unsuccessful. I settled with balancing it loosely on the rim and slid it down the counter away from me when I heard Kirkland's footsteps returning. I rushed over to the sink, picked up my plate and began to eat the hardened crumbs off it again. I was totally unsuspecting. Now a few years before I could try it again…

"Seriously?" I slowly and jerkily turned to see Arthur holding up my half-drunken (Huh… must've drunken more than I thought…) bottle. Well, looked like I hadn't made myself look innocent enough. I tried to put on an innocent looking face anyway. I presumed it looked even more guiltless because I was in the form of a girl. Or maybe not, seeing as how I was braless with my torso utterly revealed, and I wasn't untying it yet. I licked a few crumbs off my fingers, still trying to keep the helpless, pitiful image.

"You never said I couldn't drink that." That was a classic line that always worked.

Kirkland grimaced in annoyance and crossed his arms. "That's where _common sense_ comes in."

"I'm not sure if you noticed, but that's a skill long forgotten by me."

"Clearly."

"No durr. If I actually had brains I probably wouldn't be here today." Because, if I actually used my head, I probably would have come home before my family disappeared.

…Where were they, anyway? Where had they gone? Unless I really _had_ landed myself in the world of Hetalia, in which my family just so happened not to exist in. But if I was correct, which, being me, I probably wasn't, but then Hetalia land was pretty much Earth but with a hundred something more people who had been living for a good couple of centuries or millenniums. For example, Joan existed in both worlds.

Unless only the people who changed history remained in both. In which case, I still should've been around because technically everyone changes history, yes? If someone's merely glanced at you, you've got a place in their mind. Even if it's barely a noticeable change, things still would be different if they hadn't seen you, yes? The brain would have that much less information. The person's neurons would have reacted differently in that moment. It changed things.

…Said the guy who still had a bruise on his face because he mistrusted a darned _pixie_ and feared getting shot, so he hid behind a car and just made himself more suspicious.

I decided to stick with the dream theory. It made the most sense. Besides, if I existed now and met myself, it would cause a world exploding paradox. So I shouldn't have been there when I was there, but it was strange that I wasn't there while I was there. This was a strange Xzibit dream, that was all.

But perhaps to balance things out, fate had removed me from this world so my other self, this self, could live without endangering human kind.

But then why was my family gone too? Maybe my coming screwed up everything…

Yeah right. I didn't chose come here. Something or someone unnaturally sent me here and I highly doubted that they were some sort of megamind trying to take over the Earth. I was over-thinking things. Big time.

How did my brain switch from my lack of common sense to this, anyway? _Answer_: the same reason why I asked about secret beer storages while thinking about music. Speaking of which…

As if to mock me, Kirkland was finishing off the bottle I started. He was totally rubbing it in that he wasn't underage. If he was thirsty he could've had some _juice_! At least, in front of me in my over-emotional state. The _git_, as I had heard Arthur say.

I pouted and licked a few more chocolate crumbs off my fingers.

* * *

**_Notes:_**_ "I'll update faster." "I have big plans for the next chapter."_

_Eheheheheheh... Lies! D:  
_

_First I went on a quest to find my sense of humor, which didn't really work and then I joined ten bazillion fandoms (DC, Marvel, Lord of the Rings...) and then I ended up finding my sense of humor but it _sucks_! _

_...And then I couldn't even come up with a chapter that doesn't jump around from topic to topic...  
_

_...  
_

_*teary eyes* If you guys are honestly still keeping up with this trash of a story... you...  
_

_THANK YOU!  
_

_YOU GET FREE INTERNET LLAMA COOKIES! - That's the humor I found within myself. But still, thank you so, so much!  
_

_Now to find a GOOD sense of humor before I write a note longer than the story! ((And... if you guys actually still like it, I promise not to take this long to update. This is not a story worthy of month-long updates, I know.))  
_


	10. Le end for now

_Welp... _

_...My brain went on shutdown and I could not think of anything ((decent, in my mind, anyway))...  
_

_And I gave up.  
_

_But I am an idiot and making a whole new chapter to tell the world this!  
_

_...Anyway, the whole point is to thank you all whom actually liked, favourited, and commented on this! It made me so, so happy and I am kind of disappointed at having to end it seeing as how it became more successful than I had thought earlier! But, alas, I cannot think of anything and my life has gotten that much busier... I have a feeling that I'll redo this someday... who knows when... but I think I will. And when that time comes it'll be better than before! _

_So thanks times a million and I hope that I can think of a better, more impressive, attention holding, interesting fanfiction soon.  
_

_Until then... thank you again... and version one of the idea of the boy in Hetalia-land has been DISCONTINUED!  
_


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